


The Debt We Owe

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Caring Alec Lightwood, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mild Sexual Content, POV Alec, Sick Magnus Bane, Warlocks, Worried Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Warlocks are getting sick. Every day from around the world news reaches Magnus and Alec about new cases with each warlock showing similar symptoms and no sign of recovery. It is only a matter of time before the warlocks of New York become infected, with no way of knowing who will fall ill next.When it reaches Magnus, he tries to isolate himself away from everyone, including Alec. But Alec isn't listening, refusing to leave his side, supporting Magnus through his sickness and prioritizing him above everything else.When the Clave realizes that a world without warlocks in it will be one full of difficulty they turn to the New York Institute, and specifically Alec, offering him all the resources he might need to get to the root of the problem. But what can Alec do when all the warlocks he knows are delirious, hallucinating, and barely able to fend for themselves? Who can Alec turn to when the person he loves most seems beyond help?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Here is our offering for the Shadowhunters Hiatus Big Bang. Cover art is by me, art is by @CryptidBane/@AlexanderGideonTrueblood (thank you, it's beautiful, and lurking in chapter three), and beta-ing by @hourglassmermaid (thank you: I'm so sorry about the onions); ladies, I've loved working on this collaboration with you both <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 

"Magnus? Everything okay?"

He's been distracted all evening, Alec thinks, glancing at Magnus' barely touched wine and hardly-eaten plate, and catching him frown a little deeper without even looking up.

"Yes. Everything is fine."

Alec doesn't believe him. There has barely been a minute since Alec arrived home when Magnus hasn't been staring worriedly at his cell phone. And though Alec can tell when Magnus doesn't want to talk and knows from his expression that this is an occasion where he'd prefer Alec not pry, there is a line of tension stiffening Magnus' spine that has Alec aching to get him to speak.

Still, Alec gives him a few more minutes, leaving Magnus sitting on the balcony as he clears the table when Magnus' absent wave suggests he is finished. Alec washes the plates with care, leaves them draining on the dish rack, takes a little time to put away their leftovers, and does everything he can to give Magnus space before joining him once more.

The furrow in his brow has deepened, his posture even more alarming, and Alec decides enough is enough.

"Hey," he says, taking advantage of Magnus pushing away from the table to straddle and sit in his lap unannounced, smiling as Magnus looks up in surprise.

"Alexan—"

Alec cuts him off with a kiss, draping his arms over his shoulders and relaxing only when Magnus sighs against him as he loops his arms around Alec’s back.

"Talk to me."

Magnus stares back at him without speaking, and Alec reins in any impatience he's feeling, waiting for Magnus to find a way to get his words out.

"I think we have a problem."

Alec's stomach knots as he monitors the difficult swallow rippling up Magnus' throat and chides himself for momentarily thinking that whatever is wrong is something between them.

"What is it?" he asks, fighting to keep his tone neutral.

Magnus sighs, his fingertips massaging absent circles into Alec's back as he looks unseeingly at his chest. He frowns deep again and sighs out a hard blast before looking up at Alec.

"Alec. The warlocks. There are warlocks getting sick."

* * *

"Sick?" Alec says, sure he's misheard him. "Warlocks don't get sick. They can't."

Alec knows they can't. He's read everything he can possibly get his hands on when it comes to warlock wellbeing and physiology, sneaking books from the libraries in the Institute to learn more from the moment Magnus came into his life. There are even, Alec thinks, shifting a little in embarrassment at the reminder, a few of those books still wedged on his shelves in his room at the Institute, a place he currently can't remember the last time he slept. Though he is reminded now, from the slight smirk on Magnus' face, that what he's read from Shadowhunter records is quite a limited selection. That there are things he has since found out about warlocks, and all the other Downworlders, from the books on Magnus' own bookshelves, that has changed his perspective and outlook entirely.

"On rare occasions it is possible," Magnus says, gently correcting him, his hands sneaking beneath Alec's shirt to squeeze into his sides. His thumbs are warm as they continue their absent massage, and Alec allows himself a few seconds of enjoyment before answering.

"Like this one?" he says, tilting his head to study Magnus' face.

Magnus nods, his lips pursed in worry, pausing again before he can bring himself to talk. "Last week, Catarina told me about a friend of hers who works in a Mundane hospital in Reggio Calabria—"

"Italy?"

"Yes," Magnus says with a soft smile. "Catarina heard that one of her friends there—Marcia—was becoming, for want of a better word, unwell."

"What kind of unwell?" Alec asks as he leans back to look at Magnus.

Alec imagines everything from strep throat to stomach flu. Then all sorts of worse, more exotic ailments and wonders what kind of remedies the warlocks will be brewing up to make themselves well again.

"Initially, it seemed no worse than a bad common cold. Coughing, sneezing, a fever, things like that."

"Initially," Alec repeats, noting the hesitance in Magnus' words.

It's rare that he's seen Magnus truly worried. Alec can recognize when he's putting on a mask to hide his fears behind, and when Magnus is keeping things to himself in an attempt to protect him. The way Magnus is behaving right now means he is being completely open about what is troubling him, and the rawness of that worry on his face is knotting Alec’s stomach.

"Yes. It is not overly common for such afflictions to ail any warlock, it's true. But it isn't entirely unheard of either, so we weren't particularly concerned, to begin with. But a few days ago, we heard that Marcia was becoming delirious and that her fever was reaching such temperatures that she had started hallucinating."

"What kind of things is she hallucinating?" Alec asks, sitting straighter and squeezing over Magnus' upper arms, hoping to give him a little comfort as he speaks.

All he can picture is Max when he was about four in the grips of a fever, screaming about Shax demons crawling over him in his bed. Alec swallows hard at the thought of Magnus suffering from similar hallucinations, and unthinkingly shuffles a little closer on his lap.

"Catarina didn't say, exactly," Magnus replies, his voice soft enough for Alec to need to lean down to hear it. "But Marcia has now confined herself to her apartment. Her magic became erratic, with blasts of it rising up without warning and causing… damage."

"What kind of damage?"

Alec watches Magnus' jaw twitch before he sighs and looks away across the balcony with a distracted squeeze at Alec's sides.

"She set fire to her curtains, and a summoning spell for a blanket, when she was cold, re-carpeted the entire apartment."

Alec tries to imagine it, tries not to find it funny thinking of an apartment entirely covered in carpet, knowing now is really not the time to be making a joke. "That sounds… difficult."

"Yes," Magnus agrees, "and thankfully, she had enough control to be able to fix both things. But now her magic is almost completely dormant, aside from the occasional flare."

Alec nods, trying to imagine what it must be like for a warlock to be without their power, and can't.

"You said she’s confining herself. Is it contagious?" Alec asks, knowing Catarina will be torn between wanting to help her friend and wanting to protect Madzie. He is just about to offer that they take care of Madzie themselves when Magnus sighs and drops his forehead against Alec's shoulder, shaking it there.

"We don't know. We haven't heard of anything like this before. That it has taken hold so quickly and left her so very unwell, is… worrying."

"Well—"

"And over this last week, both Catarina and I have heard similar stories from other warlocks around the world. With the exact same symptoms. Alexander, the progression of whatever this sickness is, is following the exact same pattern."

Alec wants to ask why Magnus hasn't mentioned this to him, wondering if all his sleepless nights over the last few days are the result of this. "Magnus—"

"It seems to be everywhere," Magnus adds, squeezing Alec tighter. "Before you arrived home, I was compiling a list of all the places where we have details of warlocks who are ill. They are just about everywhere you can imagine."

"Are they here?" Alec asks, immediately thinking of the battle he'll face getting Magnus to agree to come to the Institute with him for safety, even if he has no way of knowing if that will keep him safe.

"Three in Canada, one in Mexico, one more we think in Cuba. And seven across the United States."

"Any here in New York?"

Magnus looks back up, the concern on his face making Alec's stomach drop. Alec cups his cheek wishing the swirl of his thumb against it would bring even a little reassurance, and pleads with Magnus silently to keep talking.

"One, so far. Do you remember Andre from that awful dinner we had in—"

"For that birthday party where an argument broke out over hats?" Alec finishes for him, and even though it's only fleeting, he's glad to see it makes Magnus smile.

"Well. Perhaps it was about a little more than _hats_ —"

"But I know the person you mean," Alec says, kissing his temple. He’s pleased to feel Magnus settle against him.

"We think Andre is quite sick. He called me yesterday with what sounded like a painful sore throat. His temperature this morning was… alarming. I received a message from him late afternoon to say that he is going to bed and feels awful. His magic is flaring up out of nowhere, and he doesn't feel that he should be around other people at the moment in case he has no control over it."

"So. It sounds like what's happening everywhere else?" Alec asks, already seeing the confirmation of it on Magnus' face.

"I think so."

"Do we know where it's come from? Or what to do to treat it? Or avoid it?" he adds, ready to put up a fight if Magnus refuses to take himself out of harm's way.

"I've been researching over the last few days, going over every book I can get my hands on in my free time," Magnus replies, his expression rippling with frustration. "There is nothing I can find that either sounds even slightly similar or takes control as fast as this… infliction. I'm sure it goes without saying, but, without knowing what is causing this, we have no way of knowing how to cure it."

"Has anyone tried?" Alec asks, wondering if, since there are so many warlocks working within Mundane medical professions, there might be some warlocks they can call on for medicinal help.

Surely, he adds to himself as Magnus closes his eyes, there has to be some medication within the Mundane world they can try. Alec makes a mental note to speak to the medics back at the Institute when he returns as well, to see if there is anything they might be able to contribute.

"Yes," Magnus says eventually, absently playing with Alec's shirt buttons as he talks, "a few. And they have no idea what to do either. Though, I suppose it proves whatever this is isn't strictly contagious, since not one of them has gone on to become ill themselves. Not directly, anyway."

"So there's no like… incubation period, or anything?" Alec asks, adjusting in his lap.

"None that we can determine, no."

"So is it… are these ill warlocks looking like they're getting any better at all? After their—when their magic is… I don't know, dormant?" Alec asks, picturing Magnus laying in bed sick and fearing he won't know what to do to help him should this illness infect him as well. Alec curses under his breath for even allowing the thought, having to lean in for a quick kiss to reassure himself before Magnus has the chance to answer.

"No. They are just becoming dormant. Lifeless," Magnus adds, both smiling for his kiss and sighing for his fear.

"It's only been a week," Alec says, trying to reassure him, "don't Mundanes have sicknesses that go on for weeks without them starting to get better?"

Magnus nods, his frown easing temporarily as though that isn't something he has considered. "I suppose."

"Then. Could this not be the same thing that’s happening here?" Alec asks, hoping for both an easy solution and to soothe the concern from Magnus' face.

Magnus stares back at him and shakes his head, wrapping his arms a little tighter around him, before dropping his head into the crook of Alec's neck. "Alexander. I don't know."

Alec cradles the back of Magnus' head and hugs him close, pressing kisses into his hair.

"Hey. Magnus," he whispers with a longer kiss to his temple, "whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Whatever we… we'll figure it out."

Magnus sighs hard against him and pulls Alec closer still, nodding against his shoulder before turning and resting his head there. There is an uncertainty surging through Magnus that Alec is sure he's never felt in him before. It adds another layer of worry to all the things he's already thinking about.

"I love you," he adds, nuzzling above his ear as he squeezes Magnus again. "And I promise. Whatever this is. Whatever we need to do. We'll figure it out."

* * *

Fifty-two cases. Fifty-two warlocks around the world that have succumbed to this sickness, and Alec is sure Magnus hasn't slept in days. He holds him tight in his arms every time they go to bed and lies awake listening to him worrying—meaning Alec is just as exhausted come morning as Magnus is himself. It has now been two weeks since Catarina's friend Marcia first fell ill, and for every day that has passed since Magnus first told Alec about it, there have been frequent tense phone calls and fire messages whizzing through the air of their apartment at a far greater rate than Alec has ever seen.

Magnus barely leaves his apothecary. Alec comes home from work to check on him at regular intervals replacing cold cups of coffee with hot ones, and standing over him until Magnus at least takes a bite of something to eat. He still looks as perfectly made up and beautiful as he always does, but there is a haunted look in Magnus' eyes that truly shows the depths of his years.

"Are you gonna take five minutes for me?" he pleads, squeezing Magnus' shoulders as he stands behind him at his desk.

He's been standing here watching Magnus work for the last ten minutes, and Alec hates not knowing what to do to help.

"Alec, I—"

"Will think clearer if you just stop for a little while," Alec finishes for him, bending to kiss his neck as he wraps his arms around Magnus and squeezes him tight. "Just… come on. Five minutes."

Magnus sighs but reaches up to cover Alec's hand and nods back against him, going as guided when Alec holds his hands out to pull Magnus to his feet. He follows without a word as Alec leads him through to the living room and drags Magnus to sink down beside him on the couch, raising his arm up to wrap around Magnus and tug him to his side.

"This is… I've never seen anything like this before, Alexander," Magnus says, immediately reaching for his hand and playing with his fingers against Alec's thigh.

Magnus sounds so lost. Alec has no problem with Magnus leaning on him, even relishes the times that Magnus lets himself just be held, or asks to talk out whatever is on his mind. But ever since that night out on the balcony when he'd first told Alec of this sickness, Magnus has been withdrawing into himself. Not away from Alec, nor holding back on any of the affection they usually share. It's more that he's become so focused on this looming, growing problem, that he has to be reminded to think of anything else.

"I know," Alec agrees, ducking to kiss Magnus' forehead as he adjusts against his chest, squeezing Magnus close and smiling as he lets go of his hand to play with his shirt buttons.

They have spoken about this so much over the past two weeks. In fact, they've barely spoken of anything else. Magnus has told him all the stories he knows of the warlocks who are becoming unwell, and even about a couple of occasions in the past when he's been sick himself. Alec has sat with him, poring over every book he has on his shelves, offered wordless smiles to Catarina as she's sat there with Magnus trying to figure out what is happening. He's taken Madzie out for ice cream, and walks, and anything else to keep her occupied as Magnus and Catarina work. Alec thinks he has spent more time with Madzie in these past two weeks than in the entire time he’s known her.

Magnus is worried, like Alec has never seen him worry before. And though he's known this from the beginning of this sickness, every new message that puts more fear in Magnus' expression hits Alec with a blasted wave of reminder. They have faced so many things together, but this is one problem where Alec knows all he can really offer Magnus is his support. Though Alec has spent some time going through all the records the Clave has at the Institute anyway. He has spoken to his parents and all the contacts he knows in Idris to see if there are any confidential reports he doesn't know about, and has found nothing even close to what Magnus is describing.

"There is no pattern, nothing we can do to protect ourselves, or even any treatment we can prepare in advance," Magnus says, and Alec thinks this is what is troubling Magnus most.

Magnus is used to helping people, and even more used to taking care of himself. That he can't do the former and might not be able to do the latter must be horrifying for him. Alec pleads to the Angel that there will be a way for him to help that he's just not figured out yet.

"I feel… useless," Magnus adds, crestfallen.

Alec listens to Magnus sigh, closes his eyes as Magnus tucks himself tighter into his arms, and can only offer comfort and kisses that will do nothing at all.

"Tell me again."

"Alec?"

"Sometimes," Alec says, kissing his forehead again, "and I know this is nowhere near the same. But if I'm stuck on a problem, if I go back to the start of it and repeat it to myself, sometimes it helps. Sometimes it helps me figure out if there's anything I've missed."

It's a stupid idea, Alec thinks. Magnus has centuries of experience dealing with problems Alec can't even imagine himself, and has probably done what he's suggesting more than once. But hearing all the details for himself might get things in order and help Magnus find his way through the problem. So Alec waits for Magnus to lift his head to look at him, and when he does, rewards him with a smile.

"Catarina's friend Marcia became ill around two weeks ago, though we have since learned that warlocks have been showing symptoms for perhaps three weeks," Magnus says, seeming to be watching his own thumb press circles into Alec's chest in the gap between his shirt buttons.

"Okay."

"Each warlock affected has no known connection with the others. Or at least, has had no contact with them that would explain how this has spread," Magnus adds. "Their symptoms, though, they all follow the same pattern. The first day they feel a little… under the weather, excessively tired, and listless. They develop what seems like a heavy cold with a cough and a sore throat, and then a fever. And once the fever has begun to peak, their magic comes out in erratic blasts that they have no control over."

"And they're all confining themselves to their homes?" Alec asks, wondering who is caring for these warlocks if they're unable to do anything themselves.

"Yes. They don't feel in control of their magic, and are too exhausted to do much of anything. And once this part of the sickness has passed, their magic becomes dormant. The warlocks lose every essence of themselves within days. Not one of them so far has shown any signs of recovery."

"They're just becoming… Mundane?" Alec asks, trying to picture what Magnus is saying, and squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the image when he does.

"I suppose so, in some ways. I suppose Mundane though completely aware of their magic, yes; that would possibly fit what they are describing. Mundanes who have chronic fatigue at the very least."

"And we… there are no other signs before any of this happens? Nothing we can keep an eye out for, or… do anything to reverse?"

Alec knows he's clutching at straws, but he needs to try anything to take the fear from Magnus' eyes.

"None. We have no way of knowing, no warnings, no… Alec, we can't even try to guess when the next warlock will get sick."

"Or even _if_ any more warlocks will get sick," Alec points out, squeezing him tighter. "Magnus, we can't… it might not—"

"Alexander. I don't think you understand."

Magnus pushes himself up a little to look at Alec, leaning in for a kiss then pulling back to stare at him.

"What?"

"This is a… highly unusual epidemic. Warlocks, even when we get sick, there is nothing to my knowledge in our history that talks about any of this. There is no sickness in any of our resources—our knowledge—that even hints that this is a possibility."

"Which means, this could be intentional?" Alec says, his heart beginning to thud at the possibility of somebody doing this deliberately.

Alec can't think of anyone who could be inflicting this sickness on the warlocks, can't imagine anything with strength enough to do this to them. Though the randomness of it speaks to him more of mischief rather than carefully thought out planning, which puts only one thought in his mind.

"Magnus. Do you think… does this sound like something the Seelies could do? Or the Seelie Queen?"

"It is something I have already considered," Magnus tells him with a pinched smile. "Though we have had no time to speak to her yet. And I am… reluctant to visit her again after, well. Everything."

The Seelie Queen has barely been mentioned between them since what happened with the Soul Sword. Alec has no doubt that she would be capable of biding her time, of taking her revenge on Magnus out of nowhere, so he couldn't see it coming, even starting this sickness far away from here so he has to watch it getting insidiously closer. And though it seems too much of a reach to blame the Seelie Queen for what is happening to warlocks across the world, the thought of it even being a possibility infuriates Alec, and makes him even more determined to stop it.

"Maybe we can do something," Alec says, wrapping one arm tighter around Magnus for balance and leaning to the side to pull his cell phone from his pocket.

"What?"

"Maybe Izzy can speak to Meliorn."

"Won't that be… awkward?" Magnus asks, stumbling over the last word as though wishing for a better one.

"You think Izzy wouldn't deal with a little awkwardness for you?" Alec asks with an absent kiss as he quickly writes her a message.

"Alec—"

"Hey," Alec says, throwing his phone on the couch cushions so he can cup Magnus' face, "it seems like there's so little we can do to help. So let us do this, if nothing else. Okay?"

Magnus sighs, though nods in agreement, and sinks back down into Alec’s arms, pressing an absent kiss to Alec's throat. There is tension beneath Alec's palms as he slides his hands over Magnus' back, and when he sweeps them up over Magnus’ shoulders, he finds them tight and stiff as well.

"How would you feel about a massage?" he mumbles into Magnus' hair.

"You don't need to—"

"It's not about need. It's about wanting to. Magnus, I don't know what to… I don't know how to help here, with any of this. All I can do is try to help you. And this is… let me do something for you. Even if it's only this."

Magnus sighs against him, slipping his hands beneath Alec's shirt to lift it, and wriggling down to kiss over his stomach. "That would be wonderful, actually. My neck—"

"Is solid," Alec finishes for him, working his finger and thumb up the back of it and frowning at just how tense Magnus is. "C'mon. Move for me."

Magnus goes as guided and sits on the floor, extending his legs out away from the couch. He lifts his arms willingly as Alec pulls his shirt off, and accepts his kiss as Alec bends back down when he stands. "Where are you going?"

"Just give me a second," Alec says, squeezing Magnus' hand when he raises it to catch his own.

Alec takes his own shirt off to drape over the arm of the couch, then goes into the bathroom for a massage oil they've used a couple of times. He takes a towel remembering how last time they used it, he'd used too much and had to mop it up with a t-shirt and ruining it in the process.

His heart sinks a little on returning to find Magnus staring down at his own lap looking more forlorn than he's ever seen him, but Alec pastes on a smile as Magnus looks up.

"Make a little room for me," Alec says, gripping Magnus' shoulder as he swings his leg across so Magnus is sat between his legs. "Okay. Magnus, relax for me, huh?"

Magnus is pliant beneath his slicked up palms as Alec begins to work the knots out of his muscles, digging his thumbs in deep where he is particularly stiff. Magnus angles his head away with a silent request for more of the same at the base of his neck. Alec drops kisses on the back of his hair and sits up again, taking extra care over the two spots that feel particularly tense.

With more oil on his hands, Alec urges Magnus to lean a little forward, working over his shoulder blades and the tops of his arms. He half-wants to take Magnus to bed and give him a full massage. Maybe then he’ll sleep a little while. But Magnus still has work he wants to do as well as researching all he can about this sickness, and Alec doesn't want to push.

Alec knows when Magnus wants him to finish, sensing both the relieved drop of his shoulders and the tension up his spine saying he needs to get back to work. He wipes Magnus over with the towel making sure there is no excess oil on his skin, dropping down to kiss his shoulder and is surprised when Magnus spins around to slot between his knees.

Without a word, Magnus lifts his hands and cups his face, drawing Alec in to a long, slow kiss. His face is still sad and worried when he pulls back, but at his attempt at a smile, Alec caresses his cheek and swirls his thumb over it. Magnus leans into his hand, wrapping his arms tight around Alec's waist and shuffling closer, with Alec holding him just as close as he pulls him into a hug.

"Thank you," he hears muffled against his shoulder, cupping the back of Magnus' head to keep him close for as long as he'll allow it.

"Anytime."

Magnus smiles at that, Alec is sure of it, sure he can feel the outline of a smile against his shirt. There is a kiss pressed there before Magnus is drawing back and gracefully rising to his feet, tangling Alec's hands through his as he goes.

"Tea?" he offers. "Or something stronger."

"Stronger," Alec says as he stands to join him, kissing him again. "You work. I'll make us something."

Alec watches Magnus nod and smiles when he reaches out to squeeze his sides, his gaze following Magnus as he walks away heading for his apothecary with an absent stretch, his hand carding through his hair as he walks.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

_Madzie is sick._

Alec is sure the blood running through his veins is cold as he rereads Magnus' message, pleading that the words are not true. Magnus answers on the second ring when Alec calls, his greeting coming out in a breathy shudder showing he's trying to collect himself.

"Since when?" Alec says, already up on his feet and shrugging into his jacket.

"Last night. Catarina got back from work late. The babysitter said she'd been sneezing the whole time she'd been gone. Her temperature is… Alexander..."

Magnus' voice breaking leaves Alec's gut churning, and he can't get out of the Institute quick enough.

"Portal me home."

Alec steps through the portal and wraps Magnus in his arms before it closes behind him, cupping the back of Magnus’ head as he tucks into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he says holding Magnus tight.

He feels just as terrified as Magnus looks and thinks they must be holding each other up, knowing either one of them could break at any moment at the thought of Madzie suffering.

"It happened so quickly," Magnus says, the words coming out muffled for being spoken into the collar of Alec's shirt.

"Can we go? You said you don't think it's contagious."

"Are you sure?" Magnus asks, pulling back to grip the lapels of Alec's jacket, his eyes flitting over Alec's face as though seeking reassurance.

That he has to ask, that there is such lost pleading in Magnus' eyes, terrifies Alec.

"Of course," Alec says, pressing a hard kiss to the side of his head, smiling when he looks up again. He takes Magnus' hand hoping to give him some kind of anchor, and nods in encouragement as he opens another portal.

Catarina is wide-eyed and frightened. She stumbles into each of their hugs then beckons them to follow her to Madzie's bedroom. Madzie is thrashing back and forth in her bed muttering under her breath, a sheen of sweat gleams on her forehead, suggesting she still has a temperature, and the only comfort Alec can find is that she isn't awake to be aware of what is happening to her.

"Her fever's broken," Catarina says as she sinks down on the bed beside Madzie, pushing her hair back away from her face. There is a bowl filled with water by her feet, the cloth hanging out suggests Catarina's been sat here caring for Madzie trying to keep her cool. "But her magic. Magnus, it's… it's like it's fractured."

"What does it look like?"

"Literally, like that. Like it's coming out in splinters and nothing is connected to anything. I don't think I… Magnus, I feel so helpless. I don't know what to do."

Magnus steps closer and throws his arms around Catarina's shoulders, cradling her as she cries her way into his chest. Alec feels pretty helpless himself; he looks around the walls taking in some of the pictures he's drawn with Madzie, and at the two photo frames on her nightstand that are of Catarina in one, and he and Magnus with Madzie in another.

"We need to stop this," he hears Catarina say. Magnus' soothing words are offered in a comforting response.

"Is there… Catarina is there anything we can do?" Alec asks when Magnus pulls back and sinks down to sit beside her, taking her hand.

"I don't know. I don't think so. Every warlock we speak to is telling us the same thing. Nobody knows anything."

The mournful frustration in Catarina's voice is catching, pushing bile up Alec's throat.

"We have three more warlocks here in New York who are sick," Magnus adds, and it spikes fresh panic in Alec's chest.

He knows that this sickness isn't thought to be contagious, and he knows Magnus will do all he can to help those in his care. But the thought of Magnus getting sick is becoming a daily nightmare for Alec. And what is he going to do if it happens to Magnus? How is he going to be able to help?

"Why has it happened so quickly to Madzie?" Alec asks, sure from everything Magnus has been telling him that for all other warlocks, the process has taken days.

"I think it's because she is young," Catarina replies, a soft sigh in her voice as she looks longingly at Madzie. "I think this… fever has burned through her so quickly because of that, and all we can do is see what happens when she eventually wakes up."

"There is a young warlock in Frankfurt who is apparently experiencing the same, or a similar speed of their symptoms," Magnus says, still holding on to her hand.

"How old?" Alec asks, already picturing some of the young warlocks Madzie plays with and fearing for them as well.

"He's around nine," Magnus replies without snatching his eyes away from Madzie.

"And it's the… the same—"

"His magic became dormant within the day," Magnus finishes for Catarina, her fear echoed in his eyes as he glances first up at Alec then back down at a sleeping Madzie.

"There has to be something we can do."

Catarina's voice comes out cracked yet determined, but then her shoulders are sagging and she's crumpling into Magnus' side, crying into his shoulder in soft sobs.

"I'll… make tea."

Alec feels even more useless. To be stood watching two powerful warlocks lean on each other for support and knowing there is little they can do leaves Alec turning on his heel and making his way to Catarina's kitchen, desperate for something to keep busy. He's been here often enough to know where everything is and focuses on something practical to calm his growing panic.

If Madzie is sick, this little protective bubble he's convinced himself all the people he cares about are inside has shattered. If Catarina is next, Alec knows Magnus will be inconsolable. And if Magnus is sick before she is, Alec thinks, gripping the edge of the counter, will it be him clinging to Catarina for support?

That there is an inevitability about this sickness sweeping across the world makes Alec desperate. He's spoken to Silent Brothers, pushed the Accords to their boundaries trying to find ways to help. He doesn't know what to do; in under a month, there are thousands of warlocks affected, the numbers seeming to grow exponentially as time goes on, and no logical reasoning for that spread of the illness at all.

He has to keep busy. Alec makes tea and takes it through to Magnus and Catarina, resting the tray on Madzie's nightstand and standing awkwardly, not knowing where to put himself. Magnus and Catarina have barely moved; he watches them sip at their tea, knowing they aren't tasting a single mouthful. He says nothing, because every thought he has in his head fails on his lips for knowing the words will be empty platitudes.

"You have to tell me what I can do to help you," Alec pleads breathlessly when he and Magnus are back home and wrapped around one another in their bed, their skin sheened with sweat after a desperate need to be together the moment they had stepped through the portal. "You have to… Magnus, I don't want this to happen to you. I don't want… Magnus, you have to—"

Alec doesn't mean to get upset. He doesn't mean to barrel forward to bury himself in Magnus' arms. He needs to be strong for Magnus, it's selfish to even think about Magnus comforting him through this. Magnus soothes him anyway, sweeping his hands repeatedly over Alec' back and pressing kisses into the top of his hair.

"Alexander," he says with a dry swallow that tells Alec he is holding back tears, "you know there is no way to prepare for this. We don't know anything aside from possibly what to expect."

"But I—"

"I suppose all we can do should this happen to me, is treat the symptoms as they appear. If my throat is sore, we have excellent tea, and that honey we bought in that market in Romania. If I have a fever, then I suppose I will take a bath; several of them, while I still have the energy to do so. I suppose I should order us a fire extinguisher should my magic… flare of its own accord."

Alec wriggles against him, knowing Magnus is trying to make a joke to lessen the worry they're both feeling, but he’s not ready to hear any of it.

"Magnus—"

"It might not come to anything," Magnus says with a determined squeeze around him. "And I am not giving up; I have canceled all of my clients indefinitely, and am working with Catarina tomorrow to keep researching this… thing."

"This isn't all on you," Alec says as he lifts his head, worrying that the harder Magnus pushes himself the more susceptible to sickness he might become. Even if there is nothing that has happened so far that suggests that will be the case.

"No, it isn't. But I still have my duties to the warlocks. I still have to… there are warlocks all over the world that are looking into this, this is a joint effort. We are all doing all we can—"

"I don't want you to get sick."

Alec drags himself up the bed and brackets Magnus' face between his forearms, staring hard as though his own wishes might ward any sickness off.

"I would rather not get sick either," Magnus replies, tilting his chin up for a kiss, "but we will… I will deal with it, should it happen."

" _We_ ," Alec insists, kissing him hard, "we will deal with this. You're not going through any of this alone."

"I love you," Magnus says, reaching up to cup his cheek and staring back just as hard.

Alec is frightened to snatch his eyes away for even a second, fearing what might happen if he so much as blinks. "I love you too. So, so much."

Magnus smiles, his thumb sweeping a soft circle over his cheek, leaning up for another kiss that turns into a worried sigh. They turn back on their sides, tucked up together and holding on as though that too might keep this sickness away. Alec promises himself that if the inevitable happens, he will give his all to nurse Magnus back to health. And for fear of revealing the onslaught of more pointless tears, squeezes his eyes shut as he clings on to Magnus.

* * *

Alec watches the glass swirling in Magnus' hand as the amber liquid inside sloshes up the sides of it untouched. And for a city that supposedly never sleeps, New York can't bring them the comfort of distraction either. They have been stood here staring out over it for hours since getting home from Catarina's after a daily visit to check on Madzie, with neither of them saying a thing. Alec wants to talk, wants to help Magnus talk, but has no idea what words he wants to get out.

Magnus is no better. Alec keeps sneaking glances at him and catches several occasions when he opens his mouth to speak and then doesn't. The rigidness of his spine and the frequency of his painful swallows tells Alec how hard Magnus is thinking. He wonders how much he is blaming himself.

That neither he nor Catarina could do anything to help Madzie, Alec thinks is going to haunt Magnus for days. He is so used to being the first person just about everyone turns to when they are in trouble, and to not be able to do what is so natural to him when it's Madzie that needs his help has got to be the harshest reality of all.

They need to find the source of this sickness. They need to stop it from spreading any further. But despite all the efforts Alec has seen both Magnus and Catarina go to, and how many calls he's overheard them making to friends and acquaintances, they don't seem to have any answers. The frustration Magnus is feeling is palpable in the air, and Alec closes his eyes as it engulfs him, slumping down on his forearms against the balcony ledge.

"You should sleep."

A warm hand presses on Alec's lower back, and he turns just enough to look up at Magnus, catching the tail end of a smile.

"I'm not sleeping until you sleep."

"I don't think I will be able to sleep."

"Then, neither will I."

"Alec—"

"I mean it," Alec says as he straightens up, sweeping his hand down Magnus' back. "I'm not even gonna try sleeping until I have to. I can't; not when you're out here, worrying, and I know you won't rest."

"I feel so old. And helpless," Magnus says, going as guided when Alec lightly grips his hip and pulls him closer, sagging into his side.

"Well. I can't do anything about the _old_ ," Alec replies, hoping to at least earn a smile. "But the helpless thing I'm not accepting. You aren't."

"Alexander. Were our situation reversed, would you not be feeling exactly the same?"

"And if our situation were reversed, would you not be arguing with me like I am with you?" Alec retorts, smiling when Magnus turns to look at him and sighs.

"I suppose."

Silence creeps in between them. Alec watches as Magnus takes a sip of his drink and grimace. Maybe he made them too strong hoping to soothe their nerves, Alec thinks, smelling his own and turning to put the glass on the table. He doesn't want tea, is unconvinced Magnus will want anything else, and has a sense of that helpless feeling of Magnus'.

"I'll be back in a minute," he says, kissing Magnus' shoulder and not waiting for a response.

Alec walks through to their bedroom and changes into warmer clothes, pulling one of Magnus' thicker jackets from the closet and draping it over him when he steps back outside. Magnus huddles into it, pinching the lapels together to hold it in place as he turns and smiles at Alec in thanks.

"Is it wrong that this all feels so much worse now, because it's Madzie that is sick?"

"No," Alec says, shaking his head when Magnus looks. "It isn't. It's not the same, but, I always felt worse when Max got sick instead of the rest of us."

"Because he's the youngest."

"And because it felt like I was letting him down because I couldn't help him. Or stop him from getting sick."

"Well, you aren't responsible for any of those ailments, or... or any of those things," Magnus says, turning once again to stare out unseeingly over the city.

"Neither are you," Alec points out, raising an eyebrow when he looks again. "Magnus. The whole world is getting sick—the warlocks are, anyway. It's not all your responsibility."

"But the warlocks in this city. And my friends, those I care about—"

"You're all going through this. It's no one's fault."

Magnus sighs, and Alec knows he's not going to accept his words so easily, but doesn't want to push, given how on edge this is making them. Instead, he closes the gap between them again, rests a hand loose around Magnus' hip, and hopes letting him know he isn't completely alone in all this will help Magnus, even if it is just a little.

"When I was with my father," Magnus says, the word coming out just as twisted on his tongue as they always are for mentioning Asmodeus. "There was a... we were in a small town somewhere in Italy that I forget the name of. There was a sickness sweeping through the town."

"What kind of sickness?"

"Some kind of stomach flu, I think. People were falling ill everywhere we turned. We were sat eating a meal watching those around us go from seemingly healthy one moment, to watching the color draining from their faces and having to flee the next, in the space of a few minutes."

"That sounds awful," Alec replies, grimacing at the images it creates for him.

"Oh, it was. So many people were sick, yet people continued to work, trying to go about their normal lives to support their families. It was very difficult to watch."

"Could you... I mean, did you try to help?"

Alec watches Magnus' mouth pinch in a bitter smile.

"There was a young girl of perhaps no more than seven, or eight, that I can still picture vividly today. Her parents were both already sick, and her siblings so much younger than her, that she was trying to take care of the entire family by herself."

"What happened?" Alec asks, not liking the tone of Magnus' voice or the thought of how this story might unfold.

"She became ill herself," Magnus replies with a sigh as he closes his eyes, and Alec sees him sag a little under the weight of whatever it is he's remembering. "And when I saw her, I tried to... I tried to help."

"With magic?"

"A little. But also a potion that I hoped might help. My father did not approve at all."

Alec holds back from saying he expects no less from a Greater Demon, instead squeezing Magnus' waist in reassurance. "What happened?"

"The potion worked," Magnus says with a wistful smile, "as did the magic. And within hours, she was back to full health."

"Well, that's great, isn't it?" Alec says, even though he knows it can't be for the look on Magnus' face.

"You would think so," Magnus replies, his gaze dropping from where he's been staring out straight ahead. "But the locals, they... they saw me giving the girl the potion, and when she got better when no one else was showing any signs of recovery, my father and I were accused of... well. All sorts of things. We were driven out of town. And my father made an example of it. Of saying that this was why we shouldn't help Mundanes, because they turn on one another. They turn on _us_."

"Well—"

"But it didn't stop me," Magnus says, straightening up a little, and his shoulders squaring in determination, even if his expression is still tinged with doubt. "Wherever we went together after that, I infuriated him by continuing to help whenever I could. It wasn't to spite him, but more to... I suppose I was finding out about myself."

"Because you are nothing like your father," Alec counters, ducking to kiss his shoulder.

"Believe me, Alexander," Magnus says with that look Alec hates seeing on his face. It's the one that says how much Magnus still loathes himself at times. "There were numerous occasions, both with and without my father, that I wished I could be—that I didn't care so much. I've spent decades living an entirely hedonistic lifestyle thinking only of myself, and what I want. But this sense of needing to help has always... gnawed away at me, until I couldn't avoid it any longer."

Alec nods, waiting for Magnus to navigate through his words. When Magnus doesn't add anything else, Alec squeezes his hip as he thinks, and decides on the best way to approach the subject.

"Magnus. There's nothing wrong with wanting things for yourself either, you know that—you taught me that. There's... just because you don't have a way to help with this—yet—doesn't make you selfish. It doesn't mean you're not trying, or not doing enough."

Magnus nods, but Alec knows he isn't really hearing him. There are few things that frustrate Magnus as much as not being able to help. Whether it is the stubbornness of others not accepting that help, or running out of ideas to try, Alec knows Magnus hates feeling out of his depth.

He also knows whatever he says probably isn't going to reach Magnus, not with whatever he is going over in his head that he hasn't yet said out loud. So Alec doesn't expect an answer, does nothing more than keep a loose arm around Magnus so he knows he isn't alone. Dropping occasional kisses on his shoulder as they continue to stare out over the horizon.

* * *

"Are you okay?"

Alec knows it's a pointless thing to ask him, but Magnus looks so broken that it's the first thing he blurts out before he can give it any thought. Magnus' smile is rueful, perhaps even a little apologetic when he turns to look at Alec.

"Not at all," he says, but leans into Alec as he says it, turning from the bookshelf he was standing beside and dropping his head into Alec’s neck as he wraps his arms around Alec’s back.

"I'm sorry," Alec replies, frustrated that this is what he's come home to, that he couldn't get back here to be with Magnus until now.

Knowing Magnus has been here alone worrying all day when he's been stuck in tedious, pointless meetings has left Alec barely containing his temper ever since he stepped into the Institute this morning.

"Don't be."

"Magnus..."

He doesn't know what to say. So Alec holds him, thinks he's swaying Magnus a little right there by the bookshelves, and doesn't make to move until it's Magnus pulling back.

"Do you feel like perhaps taking a walk, Alexander?" Magnus asks, turning to look towards the balcony.

"Wherever you want," Alec replies, taking Magnus' hands when he holds them out.

"Just a walk. I could do with a little air."

Alec looks at the stacks of books and notes that cover their coffee table and agrees, glad that Magnus is willingly taking a break. "C'mon."

The streets are teeming with people, and Alec tucks into Magnus' side, letting him navigate them around, happy to follow wherever he wants to walk. They don't talk at first, but when they do, Magnus seems to have so much to tell him. Alec hears of vacations with Ragnor and Catarina, warlock parties with far too much alcohol, and numerous adventures with spells that went terribly wrong.

Alec shares details of his childhood, anecdotes of missions that he still cringes for having to write up their disasters, and memories of an evening with friends of his parents on a boat, where he, Izzy, and Jace had tried alcohol for the first time. And as Alec had hoped, Magnus laughs hard as he recalls how he and Jace had carried an indignant, drunken Izzy away from an argument she was having with a Shadowhunter about the appropriate length of her skirt.

They're talking about everything that has happened and is happening around them, Alec realizes as they stop in a bar for a drink, and not a single word about things that might be a part of their future.

They don't talk about it too often, Alec admits to himself, with any conversation leaning towards one involving mortality destined to make them both become quiet, and change the subject to anything else. But they have always talked about a few things in the future, like places they would like to go together, and things they'd like to do with their friends. But since this sickness started sweeping across the world they've talked of nothing but what is immediately happening, living every moment of their lives minute to minute, not thinking about anything beyond the end of their day.

"Magnus," Alec says, squeezing Magnus’ hand across the table, calling him back from where he looks deep in thought. "You maybe wanna... plan something for next weekend? For us to go somewhere?"

"With everything that's happening here?" Magnus asks as though he can't believe what he's hearing.

"Well," Alec says, playing with his fingers, "it's just that... maybe it'd do us good to take a little time. Maybe get some... maybe it'll help clear your head."

It isn't that at all, Alec thinks as he smiles at him. The thought that Magnus has stopped planning things for them to do together means he's giving in. And if Magnus is accepting that becoming sick is inevitable for him, then Alec has to believe it too. He'd thought he was getting used to the idea, but the resignation on Magnus' face is putting a tightness in his throat that tells Alec he is not.

"Alexander," Magnus says, squeezing his hand, "we know this is going to happen. We have looked over every piece of information we can and found nothing—"

"But—"

"And I appreciate," Magnus continues, squeezing Alec's hand, "that it must appear as though I am giving up. I'm not."

"Magnus—"

"But we have to accept that this is a reality for us," Magnus adds, and that his words come out shaky tells Alec just how frightening an idea that is for him. "That doesn't mean we stop looking, of course. That we don't keep trying to find a solution to this. But I think it's… for both of us, Alexander, I think it's perhaps time for us to begin to be prepared."

Every comment Alec has in his head feels like a selfish one about how scared he is, how worried he is that he won't be able to do enough. So he holds them all back, makes himself pause before saying a word. "I'm here. And I'll do whatever you need me to do to help. I just… I'm here, Magnus. You're not going through this alone."

Magnus nods, and there is a brightness in his eyes that makes Alec want to wrap him up in a hug and take him home. And for a moment Alec thinks that's exactly what Magnus wants as well. But then determination seeps back into his expression, and Alec realizes Magnus has to get out what he wants to say here, away from everything familiar, to help him prepare for what is to come.

"As far as we know, this sickness isn't fatal," Magnus adds with a difficult swallow. "It seems that these cold-like symptoms just have to be... well. They have to be worked through."

"I'm gonna do everything I can to make you okay, Magnus," Alec promises, even if right now he's not sure what that means. "I'm gonna... I don't want you to get sick. I don't care if it's only like a _cold_."

"Well. As we've talked about before, that is the last thing I want to experience as well. But we have no way of avoiding this, I don't think."

"I need... maybe when this is over. Maybe you can start thinking about something you want to do for yourself," Alec says, determined to sway the conversation and Magnus' thinking to something more positive ahead.

"Alec—"

"I mean it," Alec says, trying to keep the smile on his face from slipping. "I know you still need to keep looking into this— _we_ need to. But I think that... maybe if you can just take a little time to think of something you want for yourself—"

"I am. I am, Alexander," Magnus tells him softly, his eyes crinkling with a sad smile. "Tonight is... tonight is me taking time for myself."

"But—"

"I wanted one, normal evening with you," Magnus adds, leaning across the table and cupping his neck. "I want to walk with you, have dinner with you, then go home and spend the rest of the evening with you."

There is an implication to Magnus' words that typically, Alec would have no problem with at all, in fact he'd invite every moment of it, might even suggest they leave right now to fall into bed. But that inevitability to his tone, that look he's giving him that's almost a goodbye, is frightening Alec. The reassurance that this sickness isn't fatal does nothing to dull the fear that he is losing Magnus, and that right now at least, Magnus has no way, or will, to find his way back.

"Magnus—"

Magnus leans across to kiss him, and Alec feels guilt for not being the one to hold him up. He leans their foreheads together and sighs, continues to play with Magnus' fingers against the table until he can pull himself together, then pulls back with a smile that feels close to cracking.

"Whatever you need, Magnus. Whatever you want."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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It happens on a Wednesday.

Alec is just leaving a meeting and making his way back to his office, and is stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hallway for reading Magnus' message, his heart jumping up into his throat.

_Alexander, I don't feel so well._

Alec swallows hard, looks around him and starts calling for Jace as he begins to charge through the Institute, panic gripping his stomach in a fierce knot.

"What is it?"

Alec reaches out and grabs Izzy before she falls as he knocks into her. He steadies himself in the doorway she's just appeared from and apologizes as she rights herself with her arms around his waist.

"Magnus. It's Magnus," he manages to stumble out, his breath already coming out in short, shallow blasts.

They've been worrying about this for weeks, preparing for what to do if this awful thing were to happen. But now the moment is here, Alec feels paralyzed, and all those plans they've put in place don't mean a damn thing.

"I need to go," Alec says, his voice coming out broken. All he can think about is getting to Magnus.

Izzy hugs him tight then stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek as she squeezes his hand. "Go."

Alec wants to hold on for a little longer, wants to keep a grip on his _normal_ for how scared he feels about what is to come. But he needs to be there for Magnus, he needs to get home to Magnus. He squeezes Izzy to him a little tighter, indulging in her comfort for a few seconds more, then slips away without looking back, activating his runes for speed and stealth as he goes.

* * *

Alec lets himself into their apartment, seeking Magnus out and barely remembering to close the door, finding him slumped in the corner of the couch with his eyes closed. He's holding his head in one hand, elbow propped on the arm of the couch, and Magnus turns slowly when he hears Alec come in, offering him a tired smile.

"Hey," Alec says as he sinks down beside him, stroking a hand up his thigh before pressing his palm to Magnus' forehead.

His temperature is already up. It's not anywhere near a fever yet, Alec doesn't think, though Magnus' eyes are glassy when Alec gently grips his chin to look at him, and from the difficult swallow he gives, Alec knows his throat is already sore.

"Magnus. What can I do?" he asks softly, sweeping his thumb down over Magnus' throat.

"I don't know."

Magnus stares back at him, and as Alec watches hoping for guidance or a sign that things aren't all that bad, he sees Magnus' jaw begin to tremble before he topples forward to land in his neck.

"Hey. Magnus, it's okay," Alec says, closing his eyes knowing his words are empty. He wraps an arm around Magnus, pulling him closer, one hand slipping through his hair. Alec holds on, helpless for what to do for the onslaught of Magnus' frustrated tears.

"Alexander, I've tried everything," Magnus says, his voice coming out thick and choked, "I've looked at… I've read _everything_. _Spoke_ to everyone. None of this makes any sense. None of this should be happening."

"We'll figure something out."

Magnus snuffles as he presses even closer to Alec, with Alec half-wishing he could take on whatever is coming for Magnus. He holds on tight, telling himself to keep calm so he can better support Magnus, and takes the near-quiet to focus on what he can do to make this easier for him.

"What can I do?" he asks softer still, not knowing where to start. Magnus' look is so lost when he pulls back that Alec has to gather him close again, closing his eyes once more and squeezing them shut until he can compose his thoughts.

"Okay. Here's what we're gonna do," he says, gently guiding Magnus to his feet. He holds his hand, clammy and tightly-gripped through his own, leading him into the bedroom and sitting him down in front of the dresser.

Alec balances on the edge of it reaching for Magnus' hands, gently sliding off his rings as his tears continue to fall. He guides Magnus to duck as he slips the chains around his neck over his head, then searches for the makeup remover and pads Magnus sometimes uses when he's in the mood to do things by hand.

"I think maybe we can take a shower. Get you into something comfortable," Alec tells him as he carefully removes his makeup, being extra gentle around his tear-stained eyes.

"Okay."

"And then we'll get you something to eat—"

"I'm not hungry."

"I know," Alec says, though a loss of appetite was not something he'd even anticipated as a thing for Magnus with all of this. Generally, even when he's at his most troubled, Magnus still has time for food. "Maybe just some soup. We've got some of that chicken stuff you like."

Magnus nods but doesn't say anything, only turns his face to give Alec better access, and his silence gives Alec more time to think. He's been adding additional things to their grocery list preparing for this sickness to reach them, spending more time on the internet looking up remedies for colds than doing actual work. There is a store nearby that he knows he can get to in minutes if they run out of anything urgent. And there is enough food in the kitchen to keep him here by Magnus' side for the next few days without having to leave. Alec doesn't want to leave Magnus alone, not even for a second.

"You have that meeting in Alicante tomorrow," Magnus says, his voice dull and a little scratchy.

"No, I don't."

"Alexander—"

"I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

"But—"

"Magnus," Alec says, wiping the final smear of kohl from his cheek and leaning in to kiss his forehead, "I'm not. I already made arrangements in case something like this happened. Izzy or Jace will call me if they need anything, but… I'm here, Magnus. You are more important than… anything else."

More tears are budding in Magnus' eyes, and Alec reaches up to thumb them away before they can fall. He cups his cheeks, leaning in for a soft kiss, then loops his arms over Magnus' shoulders and pulls him into a hug.

"We'll be okay, Magnus. We will."

Alec wills his words into conviction and pleads with himself to be strong for Magnus, has a smile waiting for him when he looks up.

"Okay."

"So," Alec says, untangling himself from Magnus and crossing the room to their closets, pulling out a change of clothes for them both. "Is there anyone we need to contact? Anyone you want to check up on, or need me to call?"

"I don't think so. I've told all my clients—"

"What about Raphael? Or Luke?"

"Why do they need to know?" Magnus asks, frowning as Alec pulls him to his feet.

"Because they care about you?" Alec replies, leading him through to the bathroom and helping Magnus undress before turning on the shower and stripping himself.

"They—"

"Will be pissed if we don't tell them," Alec says as he sticks his hand under the stream of water to check the temperature. "I'll send a message."

Magnus nods, pliant as Alec guides him into the shower, his eyes closing and his head falling forward as Alec begins to wash his hair.

"Everything aches," Magnus says, his voice muffled under the water.

"Everything?"

"My shoulders. My neck. My limbs. It feels as though my head is too heavy for my body."

"Does it hurt? Your head?" Alec asks as he turns Magnus, beginning to work shampoo through his hair, and quickly dipping his own head in the water so he can lather himself up at the same time.

"It feels… hollow."

"Hollow?"

"Almost as though there is a block, or a… delay between my thoughts and my reactions. It feels… heavy."

Alec rinses the shampoo from both their heads and drops a kiss to Magnus' forehead, quickly soaping them both up with shower gel and rinsing them clean. "We're almost done. All you need to do now is relax."

"I can't—"

"You have to, Magnus," Alec says, already knowing he's going to argue back.

"While I still have some strength. While I still am capable of doing something, I—"

"We'll read. Together. Whatever stuff you've got left to read through. But I don't want you going anywhere, Magnus. Just… we don't know how long it's gonna be before you get too weak, or… or if your magic's gonna start acting up."

Magnus doesn't say anything as Alec helps him from the shower and dries him off. And although it isn't the first time either one of them have taken this kind of care of one another, that Magnus offers up little objection worries Alec for how much worse he might be feeling but not admitting out loud.

He dresses Magnus first, soft lounge pants and one of his own long-sleeved shirts that Magnus claimed a couple of months ago when Alec had needed to spend a night in Alicante. Magnus yawns as he watches Alec dress, and Alec can't tell if the tiredness of barely sleeping these past weeks is catching up with him, or if it's this looming sickness instead.

"Okay. So let's eat something," he says, squeezing the ends of Magnus' fingers after dropping their clothes into the laundry basket, making a mental note to do some in the morning.

"I'm really not—"

"Just a little soup," Alec promises, wrapping his arms around Magnus from behind and nudging him through until they reach the kitchen, pleased to see he's at least made him smile. "You gonna sit?"

"I think I'll stay here," Magnus says as he leans back against a counter, his fingers squeezing at his temples.

"I thought you said your head wasn't hurting?" Alec asks, gently pulling his hand away to stroke over his temples himself.

"It isn't. Or, it wasn't. Everything here now feels a little… tight."

Alec watches the way Magnus squeezes across his forehead with his thumb and finger, and sucks in a breath, pasting a more confident smile on his face than he feels.

"So. I don't know if any of this is gonna do anything at all, but I bought a ton of… Mundane medicine to see if any of it'll help," Alec says as he gestures at a cupboard he's been sneaking supplies into over the last few days. It's testament to how distracted Magnus has been that he hasn't noticed.

Magnus opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out, the rounding of his eyes the only indication of the surprise he's feeling.

"These you need to take three times a day. The blue ones at night — they’re supposed to help you sleep — and the yellow ones before," Alec adds, picking up the box and waving it. "I figured, even if they don't help, they're not gonna… we can try, Magnus."

Alec inspects the box but already knows everything it says. He's studied every word of the pamphlet inside the box while sat at his desk in the Institute when he should have been working, looking up advice online and coming up with little that could help. That there is nothing in the Institute that could help Magnus, that all the Clave's own medicines might do harm to anyone that is anything but a Shadowhunter, makes Alec feel sick even days after realizing it.

"Okay," Magnus agrees, holding his palm out for Alec to press two of the pills into, and taking a sip of the glass of juice Alec pours him after.

"Maybe this will help too," Alec says, waving a small bottle and listening to the pills in it rattle, "extra vitamin C."

"Perhaps," Magnus replies, though his tone is doubtful.

Alec knows this isn't a solution, but he has no other way to deal with any of this. So he presses a kiss to Magnus' cheek as he prepares them soup, nodding towards a table for Magnus to sit, and pretending not to notice when he doesn't.

"You think you'll eat some bread?"

At Magnus' shaken head Alec holds in a sigh, not sure how he's going to deal with Magnus not wanting to eat.

"Did you speak to Catarina today?" he asks, hoping for good news.

"We sent messages back and forth. She is already feeling too ill to do much of anything."

Alec closes his eyes, still stirring their soup on the stove, pretending his stomach isn't knotting in fear. Catarina started feeling unwell two days ago. He and Magnus had visited with enough food to last her and Madzie a few days, with Alec watching the frightened looks passing between Magnus and Catarina and being barely able to stand it. He's been hoping, selfishly, that she'd be available just a little while longer so he'd at least have someone to talk to about what’s happening to Magnus. But now Alec is totally on his own, and doesn't know if he will be enough.

"Maybe I can go check on her in a couple of days," he offers, hoping it will put Magnus at ease as well as let him reassure himself that Catarina and Madzie are as well as they can be.

"That would be good."

"But for now," Alec says as he turns around and squeezes Magnus' hips, "I want to take care of you. You're not gonna be stubborn for me, are you?"

There is a flicker of a smile on Magnus' face that Alec feels triumphant for, and returns when Magnus leans in for a kiss.

"No more than usual."

"Oh. So it's not like I've got my work cut out for me or anything. That's good to know."

"No," Magnus replies, looping his arms around Alec's waist and squeezing before nodding against his shoulder and pulling away.

"You gonna sit for me?"

Magnus nods, taking the spoons Alec's pulled from a drawer and a plate of bread that Alec is going to try convincing him to eat, then disappears towards the table without another word. Alec checks the temperature of the soup and pours them two generous bowls, hoping Magnus will get through most of it if he eats nothing else today.

 

 

* * *

"Anything?"

Magnus shakes his head without looking up from the book he's reading, his finger trailing down the side of the page before his hand drops away in defeat. He's been reading one of the final books on their shelves that he's hoping will have something to help them with this sickness, but from the stoop of his shoulders, Alec knows he doesn’t have the energy to keep looking.

"Sit up for me," Alec says, sliding the book from Magnus' lap temporarily to pull him up and forward, then slotting back behind him so Magnus is leaning against his chest.

It's awkward, but he leans to the side grabbing the mug of tea he's just made for Magnus, asking him to hold it as he reaches for the honey and spoons enough in to Magnus' taste.

"Is this doing anything for your throat?" Alec asks, pressing a kiss just behind his ear.

Magnus' temperature is creeping up steadily, and his symptoms getting worse. He's coughing, and sneezing, and groaning in discomfort half the time, and the rest of it laying listless like he doesn't want to do a thing. Though Magnus is constantly trying to force himself to keep working, and is increasingly frustrated every time that he can't.

"A little," Magnus croaks out, his throat sounding even more raw than earlier this morning.

Alec presses a kiss to his shoulder, mumbling for him to drink the tea while it's hot in the hope it will do something to help, then pulls the book he was reading closer and tries to take a look himself.

"I know one thing," Magnus says, dropping his head back on Alec's shoulder and sighing, turning until his nose is nudging against his jaw.

"From the book?"

"No," Magnus says, lightly shoving at the book telling Alec to close it, "just something I assume will happen, from all that I have already heard."

"What?" Alec asks, fearing bad things, squeezing his arms around Magnus' waist as though that will keep this sickness from him.

"Well. Considering how quickly Sweet Pea was taken ill, and how slow it has been for other, older warlocks, I can only assume that we were right. That this ailment takes longer to set in for those of more… senior years."

"So. This could take longer for you because you're… however old you are," Alec says, kissing his neck and leaving a lingering smile there. Magnus has been anything from 200 years old to 800, and everything in between. He constantly teases Alec that he's only doing it to remain mysterious to him, and Alec always retorts that it's because he's so old he's forgotten just how old he really is.

"I think so. I was just thinking about it this afternoon, and all of the warlocks who are already sick."

"When you told me you were sleeping when you complained of a headache," Alec points out, smiling at Magnus' apologetic wriggle and slipping a hand beneath his shirt to rest on his stomach.

"I tried to sleep a little."

"In between all this _thinking_."

"Can I help it if my brain chooses not to allow me to rest?" Magnus protests, though it's half-hearted, and comes out even weaker for the crack in his voice.

"I suppose not."

"Besides. You know I sleep better if you're with me."

"And I offered to come to bed with you, but you insisted I catch up on work," Alec retorts. Izzy dropped off some paperwork for him to go through earlier, filling him in on the details of all that is happening in the Institute and leaving him relieved that everything seems to be under control.

"Alexander. Will you sleep with me here?"

There is softness in Magnus' voice along with its croaking. And, Alec thinks in alarm, even more of that mournful defeat. He doesn't know what to do; nothing he thinks will help is having any impact on Magnus at all. He's been through all of the cold remedies he bought for him, and now Alec is considering going through all the ingredients in Magnus' apothecary to see if there is anything there that can bring him even a little relief.

"Of course I will," he whispers, pressing a longer kiss to the side of Magnus' head, nuzzling into his hair and inhaling the scent of sandalwood. "You gonna finish your tea?"

Magnus drains his cup and reaches out to push it on to the table, with Alec plucking it from his fingers to do himself. "It helped a little. Thank you, Alexander."

Alec nudges Magnus so he'll move, laying out the length of the couch and letting Magnus move him wherever he wants so that they're both comfortable. Once he's settled, Alec pulls down a blanket he's left on the back of the couch and tucks it over Magnus, bracing for his complaint about being too warm.

"I'm cold," Magnus says in complete contradiction, snuggling even closer to him and shivering.

"Should I get you another?"

"No. No, I'll be fine in a moment."

Alec wraps him up a little tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to the top of his head, staring up at the ceiling listening to Magnus' rattling breath as he falls asleep.

* * *

"It's too dark. It's too dark; don't make me go in there. I can't... _I can't I can't I can't_ —"

"Magnus," Alec calls out as he lurches awake, cursing under his breath that the sharpness of his tone has made Magnus flinch in his sleep. "Magnus, I'm sorry. You're okay—"

"I don't want to go in there. I don't. I can't go in there. It's too dark. And loud. I don't—"

Alec rolls and wraps himself around Magnus, trying to soothe him as he thrashes around the bed. He feels a little too warm, and Alec can't tell if it's because of whatever this dream is doing to him or the beginnings of the fever he's dreaded making an appearance.

When Magnus has calmed a little though is still fitfully sleeping, Alec drags himself from their bed to use the bathroom and get a drink for them both. These delirious dreams Magnus keeps falling into are becoming more frequent and alarming, and Alec feels like he's constantly braced for them, yet can never tell when the next one will hit.

Alec doesn't know what to do. He restrains Magnus from hurting himself when he seems in danger of falling from the bed, or couch, or wherever else he's fallen asleep. Then holds him close for the panic it raises in him for being forced awake. Alec is constantly concerned that he's doing Magnus more harm than good when he wakes him up, but doesn't know what else to do.

"It's dark, Alexander," Magnus says when he returns.

Alec wants to be comforted that Magnus knows he is there with him, even if he's a little lost in his own thoughts.

"Do you want the light on?" he asks, convinced Magnus is still talking in his sleep.

"No. They'll see me if you do that."

Alec startles at the tone in his voice that says Magnus is already awake, and quickly rushes forward with their glasses of water, pushing them on to the nightstand as he sits on the side of the bed.

"No one is going to get you, Magnus."

"They will. They will, Alexander. It's so dark."

Alec briefly wishes he could see whatever Magnus is seeing, thinks it might give him a sense of how to help Magnus back out of it. He squeezes his hand, feeling Magnus clasp on hard instead of pulling away, and isn't sure if that is a good thing or not.

"It's dark outside," Alec says, taking in the blank stare in Magnus' eyes now that he's adjusted to the darkness of the room. "It's early in the morning, Magnus."

"I don't want them to see me."

"They... they won't see you. You're safe here. You are."

"I don't want them to see me," Magnus repeats, sounding even more desperate.

"Hey. Hey, you're safe. You're safe here, Magnus. No one can see you. You're okay."

"They'll see me," Magnus whispers, pulling back from Alec and tucking into himself, shaking his head back and forth.

"You're safe," Alec repeats feeling utterly useless.

The worst thing about these dreams for Alec is that he can't tell if they are just dreams conjured out of his sickness, or if Magnus is reliving warped versions of memories that he'd rather forget. All Alec can picture now, for instance, is a scared little boy abandoned on the streets trying to fend for himself, hiding away from people who only want to do him harm.

He has to hold Magnus, Alec thinks, moving what he hopes is slow enough for Magnus to realize he won't hurt him, then gently wrapping his arms around him and holding his breath, relieved when Magnus doesn't pull away.

"You're safe, Magnus. I promise. You're hidden; you found the best place to hide away from everyone. You're safe."

Alec feels him nod against him, even relax a little in his arms. He doesn't want to pull away and startle him yet doesn't want him to fall asleep sat upright either.

"Magnus. Do you want to drink something?"

"Thirsty," Magnus says faintly, "I'm thirsty."

Alec keeps hold of his arm as he pulls back just enough to pick up one of the glasses, holding it steady when Magnus reaches out to take it. He watches him drink and smack his lips once he's drained it, and holds out the second glass, determined to get some fluids into Magnus while he can.

"Dark," Magnus mumbles again, though his eyes are beginning to fall closed.

Alec shifts across the bed and arranges Magnus so he's pillowed on his chest, holding on to him and monitoring his breathing as he falls back asleep.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Alec pauses from handwashing one of Magnus' silk shirts to listen to him coughing, gripping around the edge of the sink and leaning forward with a sigh. It's getting worse no matter what he tries; Alec dries his hands and walks through to press a kiss to Magnus' forehead as he thrashes beneath the covers, and makes his way to the kitchen, determined to keep trying.

 _Can you get me some lemons?_ He messages to Izzy since she's heading over later with some paperwork he needs to sign. He halves and juices their last lemon, pouring it into a tumbler along with a little water and adding a couple of spoons of honey and a generous measure of bourbon, swirling it in the glass before taking it through.

"Hey," he whispers, putting the glass on Magnus' nightstand as he sits on the edge of the bed, "let's get you up."

Magnus groans hard but goes as guided, holding his arms out for Alec to hold, and only grumbles a little as Alec slips in bed behind him to prop him up against his chest.

"Here. Drink this," Alec says, splaying one hand over Magnus' stomach and frowning at the heat of Magnus' skin as he leans against him.

Magnus shakes his head, weakly pressing the offered glass back into Alec's hand.

"Alec—"

"Please," Alec says, kissing his temple, and nuzzling there when even that feels hot. "Maybe it'll help."

Magnus is either too kind or too tired to comment that it hasn't helped so far. He wraps his fingers around the glass and swallows the mixture, retching the entire time, though it was _him_ who suggested the ingredients. Alec has obediently worked through every suggestion, from diluting lemongrass oil to massage into Magnus' temples when his headaches have got too painful, to making a eucalyptus rub for his chest when his breathing becomes too labored.

"What are you doing in the bathroom?" Magnus asks as he drops his head back into Alec's neck, turning a little to nuzzle against him.

"Just trying to get that shirt clean from earlier."

"I'm sorry—"

"Magnus, don't apologize for being ill. Please."

The shirt is stained from lunch. Magnus was so tired that he fell asleep at the dining table, and Alec had to carefully shake him awake as he slouched over his food. There is a burn in one of the curtains in the lounge from an erratic flare of Magnus' magic, and a pillow that Alec had needed to take on to the balcony when an uncontrolled blast from Magnus' hand set it ablaze. And Alec suspects if Magnus recovers from whatever this is, he's going to want to replace one of the armchairs for the chunk he gouged out of the arm to stop the fire from spreading.

 _When_ he gets better, Alec corrects himself, _when_.

"This is… awful."

Magnus is doing his best to be a willing patient, but having his very essence out of control and being too weak to do much of anything is making him cranky, and obstinate. He snaps on occasion when tasks get too difficult for him, then spends hours apologizing any time he does. And it's a vicious cycle, a battle that Alec grits his teeth through, not letting anything push him away.

Alec doesn't blame him. He'd rather not be on the receiving end of Magnus' frustrated, frail temper, but knows it's only because he's feeling so out of his depth. And he's scared; Alec is pretty scared himself. He's been through the few warlock books he can decipher when Magnus is fitfully sleeping, and came up with nothing that might make him more comfortable. Alec has only dared leave Magnus for a couple of hours at a time to check on Catarina and Madzie, taking them some groceries and other supplies, and finding them just as ill as before.

"You need to rest, Magnus," he says, squeezing him a little.

"All I do is rest."

"Not enough. I think the only thing you can do is sleep—"

"I can't sleep—"

"So I'll stay with you," Alec says, nudging Magnus forward so he can stand back up.

"Alec, no. You have things you need to be doing."

"Give me five minutes to finish getting this stain out of your shirt, and then I'll come back to bed. Izzy won't be here for a couple of hours."

"But—"

"I'm pretty tired too," Alec says, immediately pulling off his shirt. He holds Magnus' gaze as he shrugs out of the jeans he'd thrown on earlier for running downstairs to check the mailbox, then gently urges Magnus over on to his side.

Magnus sighs, shuffling to get comfortable and frowning as though that's an impossible task. Alec waits until he stops moving, then covers him over, leaning in to kiss the side of his head before returning to the bathroom to finish washing his shirt.

Magnus is restless when he walks back though. Alec climbs into the bed and holds his breath as Magnus immediately shuffles closer to deposit himself on his chest. He's like a furnace; Alec breathes out slowly against the heat searing into him, lightly wrapping his hands just above Magnus' elbow. He decides he'll try to get Magnus to sleep a little more, and then will take his temperature again to decide what to do next, fearing this heat is about to turn into that infamous fever.

"I love you, Alexander," Magnus mumbles into his chest with an absent kiss and a wheezy sigh.

"I love you too," Alec replies, sweeping his hands over Magnus' back, not knowing whether he should be preparing to help him sweat the fever out or trying to cool him down. He lifts up just enough to kiss the top of his head then drops his head back into his pillow, staring up at the ceiling far too warm and worried to sleep himself.

* * *

"You look exhausted."

Izzy hands over a paper bag full of lemons as she frowns at him, pressing her palm against his forehead as she tries to walk him backward into the loft.

"It's not contagious, Izzy," Alec says, nodding for her to close the door then gesturing for her to follow. "And last time I checked, I'm not a warlock. You want something to drink?"

"Are you taking care of yourself?"

Alec closes his eyes at Izzy's question, leading the way through to the kitchen and making them tea without waiting for her to answer. Izzy's visited every other day since Magnus got sick, the two of them sitting and worrying together becoming a new routine. Jace and Clary have visited a couple of times in between a constant stream of messages, as have Luke, Maia, and Simon when they're not tying up Alec's phone. Raphael turns up unannounced when he feels like it, which is often. Magnus has had so many visitors these past few days that it's bolstered Alec, knowing even if Magnus is delirious or sleeps through most of their visits, he has unwavering support from the people they love.

"Have I got much to do?" Alec asks instead of answering Izzy, nodding towards the files tucked under her arm.

"Six to sign. Nothing too much."

"Nothing I need to know about?"

"Alec. We already discussed this before Magnus got sick," Izzy says as she has done every time he's asked, staring back at him when he tries to step around her for teacups.

"We did. And I'm not coming back yet. I need to be _here_. But I still—"

"We're dealing with it. All of us," Izzy tells him, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

Alec wants to say something in return but thinks better of it for the look she gives him, relenting with only an eye roll as he turns away to make their tea.

"How's Magnus?"

"No different," Alec says, trying to keep his voice level and not show all the concern he's feeling. "Finally got him to go back to sleep."

"And nothing is helping?"

Izzy knows it's pointless to ask, and Alec knows it's pointless to answer. But in a strange way this repeated conversation is comforting to him, another part of their newly established routine.

"I think maybe the honey is making his throat a little less sore, and we made this eucalyptus stuff that I guess eased his chest enough to stop him coughing for a little bit. And I've got this… recipe, I guess, that I found earlier for something to take his temperature down."

"What does that involve?" Izzy asks, setting up their tea tray with honey and spoons, before she reaches into the paper bag she brought with her and pulls out a pack of cookies that have always been Alec's favorite.

"Uh… it's this paste with willow, meadowsweet, something called… black cohosh—"

"Where are you gonna find all this stuff?"

"There’s a whole apothecary through there," Alec points out, gesturing towards the room. "I found things on those shelves that… I have no idea where Magnus got them, and I don't think I even wanna ask."

"But you have all these ingredients?" Izzy asks, pushing the teapot towards Alec for him to fill. "Do you need me to pick up anything for you?"

"We do," Alec replies, smiling in thanks anyway. "I just have to grind them up with some… chamomile, and ginger, which we have here," he adds, picking up the ginger to wave, "and then this paste is supposed to—"

"Look at you. Warlock in training," Izzy teases as she puts the lid back on the teapot and picks up the tray to carry through.

"I don't know about _that_ —"

"But you're taking care of Magnus with all of these remedies and potions that he would normally make himself," Izzy says as she sits down beside him.

"Yeah. Because nothing else is working," Alec retorts, reaching out for Izzy's reports. "Have you heard anything? Have there been any reports to the Clave about other warlocks?"

"Nothing new," Izzy replies, her gaze falling to her lap.

"Izzy?"

Alec watches his sister sigh, can tell Izzy is clearly debating with herself about how she should answer.

"Alec. I don't think they're exactly interested."

"Figures," Alec replies, opening up the first report and telling himself to concentrate, to calm his fury that there is nothing out there in the world that seems to be helping with this sickness.

"I wish there was more we could do," Izzy says, sighing again before leaning forward to pour their tea.

"Short of us visiting every warlock in New York with a care package every day, I don't know what we can do. I've got no resources on this, no one to talk to—"

"You have me. You have us," Izzy tells him as she leans against his arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant… Izzy, this isn't… warlocks don't get sick. They don't; not like this. And before Magnus and Catarina got sick they researched everything they could get their hands on. And they were speaking to all the warlocks they know. Nothing."

"Alec. We don't know anything about this. We don't know if… maybe once this cold has—"

"No one has got any better, Izzy; that's the point," Alec says, pleading with his voice not to raise in frustration, "no one. They get this fever, and their magic goes dormant, and then there's just… Magnus says they just become lifeless, or listless, or something. And that's exactly how he's gonna end up. How he is already. I don't… Izzy. I don't wanna see Magnus like that. I can't… I just can't, Iz."

It's the thing that's waiting for Alec every time he closes his eyes, making sleep only possible when he's so exhausted he just succumbs as soon as his head hits the pillow. Magnus being a shell of himself Alec refuses to imagine yet can't stop imagining it for already seeing glimpses of, as Magnus sinks deeper into this sickness. Magnus hasn't said anything about it when he's lucid enough to talk, but Alec can tell he's thinking of it sometimes when he goes quiet, times when Alec feels the most useless for having no way to help.

"Maybe he—"

"Izzy. This is happening," Alec says, again trying to keep his voice level and calm. "This is… there is no way out of this right now. There never was; I just need to… when we… when Magnus—"

"Alec—"

"When he's… when we get to that stage and I—I know that he's safe, then I'm gonna… I'm gonna have to try something. I'm gonna… maybe if I go to Alicante in person—"

"We'll deal with it, okay?" Izzy says, shuffling closer to him and resting her head against his shoulder. "Alec, you're not alone in this. We'll deal with it. I know we don't know how yet, but we will."

Izzy's warmth against his side is too much. If she doesn't move away he's going to crumble, he's going to break down when he has to keep strong, he has to keep going, he has to—

"It's okay, Alec."

Alec finds himself crying into Izzy's neck clinging on to her tightly even as he tries to force himself away. He keeps bargaining with himself for another few seconds, another few moments of being comforted before he composes himself and sits up again. But every time he tries, the image of Magnus fitful and sick in their bed blasts itself at him again, and Alec continues to cry himself out in Izzy's arms.

"What if I lose him, Iz?" he manages to croak out when he gasps in a breath.

He's so scared. He's never seen Magnus this weak, never known anything get to Magnus that he hasn't been able to bounce back from. Even in his darkest moments, there has been that familiar spark in his eyes that is all Magnus, no matter how much he has struggled, or had to fight. But now there is nothing; Magnus' eyes are dull and his smile empty every time he looks at Alec. Alec can't bear to watch the light drain from his life.

"What if—"

"He's not going anywhere, Alec," Izzy says as she tries to soothe him, squeezing him close and running her hands over his back. "He's going to be okay."

"I—"

"He'll get through this. We will _all_ help him get through this. And you; Alec, you have to lean on us too when you need us. You can't do all of this alone."

Instinct tells Alec to pull back, to wipe his eyes and carry on, hide all he's fearing behind a smile. But he's so defeated, so truly out of his depth, that all Alec can do is hold on a little tighter and let the tears he's been fighting for days continue to fall.

* * *

Alec doesn't know where they are, but it's warm. So warm, that it's getting uncomfortable. He blinks his eyes open to the bright sun overhead and lifts his head up just enough to realize they've fallen asleep on the beach. His skin is starting to turn pink in places, and even Magnus, who insists he never burns, is clammy where he's sprawled out over him, with sweat glistening down his back.

"Hey," Alec says, kissing the top of Magnus' head in an attempt to rouse him, "hey, Magnus, we should probably get out of the sun."

Magnus isn't responding at all, Alec realizes, and he smiles for how deeply he is sleeping. But he continues to gently shake him awake, Magnus far too warm in his arms.

"Magnus, come on. You need to get up."

Alec squeezes him a little tighter, looking around the beach and realizing it's deserted. They are a few feet from the edge of the water, but it's not making any noise as the waves lap towards them up the sand. In fact, the only noise Alec can make out is rattled, strained breathing, and it takes him several long seconds to realize that the sound is coming from Magnus.

"Magnus?" Alec calls out again, beginning to worry when Magnus doesn't move, only continues to breathe hard as though he can't get enough air into his lungs. "Magnus—"

Alec jolts awake from the whimpers spilling from Magnus as he writhes by his side in bed, giving himself a couple of seconds to blink the sleep from his eyes before he can move. He switches on his bedside lamp and winces at the sudden light spilling across the room, rolling back to press a hand to Magnus' chest to stop his thrashing. The heat there sears against his palm, making Alec's heart race in fear, sending him scuttling out of bed and racing around it, peering down at Magnus and swallowing hard for the sheen of sweat on his face.

"Hey. Magnus," Alec says, leaning in to whisper to him, "I need to get you up. I need to take your temperature; you feel too hot."

Magnus groans in agony as Alec pulls him upright and props him back against the headboard. Alec holds his hands out in case he falls, and waits to make sure Magnus isn't moving too much before heading into their bathroom for the thermometer he'd run to a pharmacy for earlier.

He turns the thermometer on with trembling fingers and waits for the beep that says it's ready to use. His heart thuds hard for the 105 blinking back at him seconds later with another light flashing in warning, and Alec pleads with himself not to panic. Tries to tell himself Magnus' temperature might just be higher because he's a warlock, even though he knows that isn't true.

"Okay, Magnus. We need to get you into a bath."

"I don't want—"

"Magnus. Magnus, your temperature is too high. I need to get you into a bath, help you cool down a little, okay?"

"No," Magnus replies, shaking his head back and forth, his voice faint, and weak, and making Alec's pulse race faster still.

"Magnus, _please_."

Magnus lifts his head and blinks at him sleepily, staring back before giving a single nod. He lets Alec guide him to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs down heavily over the side of it and shivering as they're bared to the air. Alec holds out his hands to help Magnus to his feet and immediately catches him when he has no strength to stand, carrying him through to the bathroom and propping him up against the wall as he strips him, then lifting and lowering Magnus into the bath.

"I read somewhere we should make this lukewarm and fill it with you in the bath. So you… lay still for me, okay?"

Magnus slumps his head back against the edge of the bath, closing his eyes, oblivious as Alec turns the water on. He watches Magnus the entire time for signs of discomfort, or slipping, or anything at all that might indicate a problem. His skin is pallid and drawn. Magnus is barely keeping anything down when Alec tries to push food on him, so he hasn't really had anything to eat in days. And though he sips at the drinks Alec keeps giving him, Magnus has no appetite or interest in anything at all.

Alec kneels down by the bathtub and takes Magnus' hand, smoothing back strands of hair that are stuck to his forehead. He rests his chin on the tub watching Magnus' face, once again monitoring for any change, waiting until the water in the tub feels cooler to him, before standing to take Magnus' temperature again.

It isn't going down. Alec still has some of the paste he made to reduce Magnus' temperature, so reaches for his hand again and kisses over his knuckles, before running through to the kitchen for the paste. Alec applies it to his forehead, since everything but Magnus' head is already submerged under water. The instructions he'd read say he should be covered with more of the paste on his chest and stomach, but there's no way Alec’s going to move him now.

Alec keeps watching him, holding his breath through every cough or whimper, squeezing his wrinkling fingers. But he has nothing else he can try; Alec pleads with Magnus repeatedly to get better, to will himself out of this mess as he counts out long minutes monitoring Magnus' every reaction.

After what Alec thinks is another half hour, Magnus looks peaceful for the first time in days. He's sighing in relief and shifting to get comfortable, sloshing water over the tub in the process and half up Alec's legs when he stands. Alec jumps back and grabs towels to put down on the floor to mop it up. He debates what to do before leaving Magnus for another few seconds, then runs through the apartment for more towels.

"How are you feeling?" Alec asks after another few minutes of watching him, when Magnus blinks his eyes open and turns his head just enough to look at him.

"Awful," Magnus rasps out, licking his lips for how dry they are, though obediently opens his mouth for the thermometer Alec holds out towards him. "But less warm."

Alec sinks in relief when the temperature has dropped down to 101, pushing himself to his feet again and groaning for the stiffness in his limbs.

"Too cold?" Alec asks, worried now that the shivering that had taken over Magnus a few days earlier will return on top of everything else.

"No, not too cold. Just… not so warm."

"Well. Maybe a few more minutes, and we can take you back to bed."

Alec wants to change their bedding for Magnus but doesn't really want to leave him alone in the tub for how sleepy he looks, fearing he'll slip into the water and have no energy to pull himself up. But Magnus nods at his suggestion, so Alec walks through to strip the bed in seconds, changing it in between regular checks on him.

"Okay. You ready for me to get you out?" he asks, watching Magnus frown to himself before nodding.

He's still a deadweight, and Alec has to brace against the edge of the bath to lift him, propping Magnus up around the middle as he does his best to dry him off. Alec's t-shirt is soaked; he pulls it over his head one-handed still holding on to Magnus, and throws it across the room aiming for the laundry basket.

"You wanna get dressed? Maybe if we—"

"I'm still quite warm," Magnus says, shaking his head against him as it falls forward to land on Alec's shoulder.

"Then let's get you to bed," Alec says, carrying him when his legs fail him again, but only sitting him on the edge of it, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I'm gonna get you something to drink first, okay?"

Alec waits for Magnus to nod and backs away slowly, making sure Magnus isn't about to topple forward, before walking through to the kitchen.

He's made a kind of iced tea with elderflower and apple, and sweetened with a little honey, that Magnus liked the first few days of getting sick and is now about the only thing Alec can get him to willingly drink. Alec adds more crushed ice to it and pours a tall glass hoping he'll get Magnus to drink all of it before he goes back to sleep.

"How are you feeling?" Alec asks again as he sits down beside Magnus, wrapping an arm loose around his waist as he pulls him into his side.

"You must be so tired of taking care of me," Magnus mumbles as he leans against him, taking small sips from the glass.

"What? How can you even think that?" Alec asks, pulling him a little closer.

"Alexander. This is hard work. I am hard work—"

"You are _not_. You're just sick, Magnus—"

"I'm not supposed to get sick. And I don't know how long I'm going to be sick. What happens after? I—"

"You're gonna let me take care of you," Alec finishes for him, pressing a kiss to his temple before nodding to encourage Magnus to finish his drink. "You're not gonna push me away, or keep saying stuff about being too much trouble, or… Magnus. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not. And I don't know how we deal with this, or what to do yet to make this better. But I… for now, just… please rest, Magnus. I… maybe in a few days we'll… whatever happens, we'll figure something out."

Magnus sighs, turning towards him enough to drop his face in Alec's neck, then pushes the glass onto the nightstand and groans to himself as he lays back on the bed. Alec stands, helping him lift his legs and turn to get more comfortable before moving around the bed to lay down beside him.

"And if I don't get better?" Magnus asks, nuzzling into his pillow before staring back at Alec through hooded eyes, as though he holds all the answers to what is happening to him.

"You will."

"But I—"

"When your fever is down. When these… when your magic stops… flaring like it is. When I… when I'm sure you're okay to leave alone for a little while—"

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you from work," Magnus says, seeming to sag a little more into the bed as he closes his eyes. His voice is so weak, and it scares Alec that he's gotten used to the muted pitch of it in just a few days.

"Magnus. I wouldn't be anywhere else—"

"But you _should_ be."

"Why?" Alec asks, stroking a hand down his back.

"You're Head of the New York Institute. I'm sure there are people—many people—who think you should be in the Institute doing your duty, instead of taking care of a sick warlock—"

"I'm taking care of my sick _boyfriend_ ," Alec corrects, leaning in to kiss his forehead, and trying to make a joke. "I don't care about anything else. Magnus. Even Shadowhunters get compassionate leave sometimes."

Magnus cracks his eyes open with a look that says he doesn't believe him, but he looks too tired to argue back too hard. "I don't want to cause any problems for you."

"The only problem you're causing for me, is when you won't try to rest when I ask you to," Alec retorts, pressing another kiss to his cheek.

Magnus watches him for a while without saying a word or moving, before sighing hard against his pillow and nodding his head. "Thank you, Alexander. Thank you for taking care of me."

Alec laces his fingers through Magnus' against the sheets and watches as he falls back to sleep, knowing he won't be able to himself.

* * *

"No. No, I don't want to, don't make me do it, I don't—"

Alec startles awake at the distress in Magnus' voice, reaching out to grip around Magnus' wrist and waiting until the blast of magic fades away.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay," Alec says as he laces their fingers together to drag Magnus' hand up to kiss the back of it. "You're okay. You're safe now."

"I don't want—"

Alec scoops Magnus up in his arms and mutters soothing words into his ear, rocking him until Magnus seems to calm. He's half-dreaming, half-hallucinating, thinking his mother is standing at the foot of the bed screaming at him one moment, and that his father is asking him to hurt people with his magic the next.

Alec holds him through it, more aware of what to do to help Magnus now that he's experienced these hallucinations numerous times. There have been so many of them; Alec doesn't know whether Magnus is aware that every time his magic flares now, it is coming out weaker. Doesn't know if he should point it out, or if there are enough things going on in Magnus' head for him to try to deal with, without adding to them.

"Magnus. You're safe. You won't hurt anybody. I promise," he whispers, squeezing him tighter, and closing his eyes as Magnus tucks into his neck.

"I'm so tired, Alexander," he says, his voice thick with his tears and sore throat, and the cough that's left him hoarse. Alec holds him, waiting the trembles out, then rolls them over to lie side by side on the bed once they've stopped.

"I know you are. I know, Magnus," he says, pressing their foreheads together. "And I know you're scared. I'm scared too, but we'll—"

"How do we get through this if we don't know what it is?" Magnus asks, the words so muffled from his tears that Alec has trouble making them out. "How can we—"

"Magnus. Magnus, you have to rest. You have to—"

"I can't keep resting, Alec," Magnus protests feebly, trying to pull away from him and prop himself up, but so lacking strength he just collapses back. "I can't—"

"Magnus—"

Magnus shakily lifts a hand, and Alec watches, holding his breath as thin, wispy magic spits up from his palm in sparks that stop and start several times before flickering out altogether. When it stops Magnus stares at his hand in horror, shifting just enough to pull his other hand free and trying to do the same thing.

"No. No," he calls out, and that Magnus’ realization seems to give him fear-fuelled strength, just enough to send a frantic blast of energy across the room.

The exertion of it leaves Magnus gasping, desperately trying to get his hands against the bed to hoist himself up, and failing every time. Alec lifts him, slipping behind Magnus so he can prop him up then holding on tight as Magnus repeatedly tries to get his magic to work. Alec wants to cry at the feeble way the back of Magnus' hands keep hitting his thighs for the effort he's putting in and how exhausted he is.

"Magnus—"

"It's gone. It's gone," he calls out, trying once more before sobbing in exasperation and turning awkwardly in Alec's arms, pressing his head hard into Alec's neck and gripping on tightly as he cries.

"Magnus—"

Magnus curls his fingers into Alec's shirt, inconsolable no matter what Alec tries to soothe him with. He runs his hands repeatedly over his back until the raspy hiccuping accompanying his tears begins to lessen, and slides awkwardly down the bed with Magnus on top of him, pressing kisses wherever he can get to until Magnus falls asleep.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Alec wakes to the sound of a pen scratching furiously against a page. He cracks his eyes open, finding Magnus sat upright with his back against the headboard, a notebook in his lap.

"Magnus?" he says, his voice coming out croaky as he wipes sleep away from his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I wanted to make some notes on a potion that I was experimenting with before all of this happened."

"Okay—"

"If I can write everything down as accurately as possible, then I think it might be of use to anyone who is trying to recreate it," Magnus adds, turning a page in the book and tapping against it as though he's confirmed something to himself, before he starts writing again.

Alec blinks himself more awake and looks up at Magnus, catches the focused determination on his face, and knows he won't go back to sleep. Magnus is forcing himself to keep going despite the exhausted way he's sagging forward, constantly flaring his eyes wider as though that might keep him awake.

Magnus' fever has passed, and his hallucinations with it, the only symptom of his sickness remaining his almost constant exhaustion. Though his magic is gone; Alec keeps catching glimpses of Magnus trying to make it work when he thinks Alec isn't looking, staring down at his palms as though that alone is enough to send magic spiraling from them. It's heartbreaking to watch, and even more heartbreaking seeing Magnus' false smiles when he's trying to hide how much this is getting to him.

"If I make you something to drink, will you drink it?" Alec asks, pushing himself up and kissing Magnus' shoulder, hiding his own tiredness and wishing that they could both go back to sleep.

Magnus hums in agreement, even pauses to give him an absent kiss, but doesn't stop what he is working on. Alec watches him for a while, holding in an exasperated sigh as he climbs out of bed and stretches. Even when he turns in the doorway to check, Alec finds Magnus continuing to fight to stay awake, stubbornly shaking his head as he tries to focus on what he's writing.

Alec yawns his way through to the kitchen, stretching up again and rolling his neck to try to relieve some of the stiffness. His eyes are sore from a lack of sleep, and when he pinches over them, they feel gritty. Alec shakes his head at himself for even allowing any kind of complaint when Magnus is dealing with so much worse, and commands his body to feel more awake than it does.

He makes tea, lacing it with honey since Magnus is obviously too distracted to do much himself, like attempt to eat, determined to get _something_ into him. When he returns to the bedroom Magnus is in exactly the same position he'd left him in; head falling forward and the notebook continuously slipping from his grip as he slumps forward then jolts back and upright as he dozes off. Alec tries not to focus on the fact that he's so exhausted-looking, and desperately tries to think of anything he can do to help.

"I'm not useless, Alexander," Magnus says when Alec sits beside him.

"What? I never said—"

"I can still do _this_ , if nothing else."

Alec watches the way he waves a hand over the notes he's making, and the furious set of his jaw, and is lost for words.

"Magnus—"

"Just because I'll likely be asleep in... probably within the hour, does not mean I am completely incapable of working," Magnus insists, his words coming out clipped.

"What's brought this on?" Alec asks, hesitating before reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Magnus—"

"I have no _magic_ anymore, Alexander."

"You do," Alec argues, "it's just—"

"For all I can do with it, it may as well be gone. I can't access it, or do anything with it at all. And I have so little energy to do anything that..."

Alec watches Magnus' jaw lock up in frustration and seizes the chance to reach out to press a hand over the page he is writing on, asking him to stop.

"Magnus—"

"I need to keep working, Alec. I need to do something—"

"And you are. You will. But Magnus, you—"

"I don't want you to think I am weak without it."

Alec squeezes Magnus' fingers and sucks in a breath, shaking his head when Magnus eventually looks up at him. He looks so afraid, Alec thinks, his stomach plummeting for seeing it.

"Magnus. There is no way I would ever think you were weak about anything. Ever."

That Magnus would even think that he would raises bile in Alec's throat, but he forces a smile on his face and even leans across to press a hard kiss to his forehead, lingering there until Magnus sighs and nudges him back.

"I used to be able to do so much."

"And you still can," Alec insists, "this is just a... this isn't permanent, Magnus."

"What if it is?"

Magnus holds his gaze long enough for Alec to see the beginnings of his tears. They aren't the upset tears that he cried out of himself into Alec's chest earlier, but instead angry, furious ones for that vital part of who he is being stolen from him.

"Magnus. I can sit here, and you know I will, tell you over and over, that you aren't useless, or lacking who you are just because your magic isn't working right now. But you... you aren't useless."

"I _feel_ useless," Magnus grumbles, looking even more disgruntled by not being able to hold in a yawn that erupts from him.

"Magnus. You can still do this stuff. You can," Alec says, softly squeezing over his hand.

"I know I can. I just said—"

"But don't you think you'd be better doing it when you've slept a little more? Maybe sit somewhere more comfortable for writing whatever it is that you're writing down?"

"I—"

"Magnus," Alec whispers, ducking when Magnus tries to look away, "just—"

"If I give in every time I am tired—"

"You're gonna have to sometimes," Alec points out, and the defeated slump of Magnus' shoulders a second time has Alec leaning in to kiss the one nearest to him, nuzzling there before pulling back.

"I hate feeling, and being like this."

"Of course you do," Alec agrees, and he thinks he's got through to him at least temporarily for the resigned sigh that blasts from his mouth.

Alec grips the pen Magnus is holding and gently eases it from his fingers, looking down at the page and trying not to smile. He ducks to lean his head on Magnus' shoulder, turning and kissing over it before he can look up.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Magnus asks, dropping his gaze to Alec's mouth in suspicion.

Alec fights against smiling harder and fails.

"Alec—"

"Did you know that you have the most... I think you must have the most beautiful handwriting I've ever seen in my whole life. Honestly," he adds, though spreads his hand wide over the page Magnus has been filling so he can't look.

"I don't know about that—"

"Trust me," Alec says with another kiss to his shoulder before looking up. "I swear I could watch you write for hours. It's beautiful."

Magnus narrows his eyes as though he's sensing a trap, but also gives a cautious smile. "Thank you."

"But... Magnus. You're so tired, that... can you honestly tell me you understand a single word you've written here?"

Alec pulls his hand back and lets Magnus see, shuffling closer so they can look together. Magnus' handwriting starts out as beautiful as it always is for the first two lines, but then there are splotches and scribblings and all kinds of spelling errors throughout. And instead of his typical neat, straight lines, half the words are falling off the side of the page.

"Magnus," Alec whispers, pressing his nose into Magnus' temple before ducking to kiss his cheek, "if you want, I can… if you tell me what you want to say, I can write this down for you."

"Alexander—"

"I can't say my handwriting is anything like yours," Alec continues, smiling when Magnus turns to look at him, "but if you want me to. If you think it'll help. I will."

Magnus studies him, his eyes flitting over Alec's face so fast Alec doesn't dare move. But then he's breaking out into that most adoring of smiles he sometimes turns on him that makes Alec feel like he's missed something important, and shakes his head. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

"I think it's a good idea for you to write this stuff down," Alec says, wrapping an arm around Magnus' waist and turning into him with a kiss for his temple. "But I also think you'd be better to try again when you're a little more awake. We can try again."

Magnus groans, letting his head fall against Alec's and sighing, pushing the book from his lap in defeat. "I hate this."

"I know you do," Alec says, smiling as Magnus wriggles to get more comfortable and grips his thigh to right himself when he shifts too much. "I know. But we... let's try again tomorrow, okay? Let's... drink this tea, and go back to sleep."

Magnus sighs again and nods against him, turning his head for a kiss.

* * *

The Institute feels strange.

This is the first time Alec has set foot in his office in weeks, dealing with as much as he possibly can from home. But now that Magnus is through the worst of it, Alec is reluctantly returning to work, determined to seek out all the help he can get.

Magnus is still struggling. His energy levels and motivation to do anything are non-existent, and he's more likely to be found staring blankly across the room than doing anything else. Alec didn't particularly want to leave him either, but Magnus said that he could do with a break, which sent Alec scuttling to the Institute feeling out of his depth, as well as dismissed.

"You're back."

Alec looks up from absently moving pages around his desk without yet sitting, watching Izzy as she stands in the doorway smiling uncertainly as though she too doesn't know what to do.

"I am."

"How's Magnus?" Izzy asks as she rushes forward for a hug.

Alec draws the strength he can from her before answering, taking a few seconds to compose his words.

"He needed a little time alone," he says, trying to keep his voice indifferent and determined to avoid her eyes.

"Don't let him push you away, Alec," Izzy replies, leaning against him as she looks up with that look of concern she always gives him when she's reading through the lies he's telling himself.

"He's been through so much—"

"And you have been right there with him for every moment of it," Izzy points out. Alec sighs and squeezes his eyes shut as he nods, not ready to hear these words despite knowing it's the truth.

"I know. I just… I think maybe a few hours—"

"How is he?" Izzy asks again as she pulls away to perch on the end of his desk and at the same time reaches out for his hand. Alec wishes he has something more to tell her than what she's already seen for herself when visiting, but doesn't.

"He's… better. No magic, no strength, no… he doesn't want to do anything. But he's… he's not sick anymore."

"Well, that is something."

"It's the same with Catarina and Madzie. And the few other warlocks I managed to get ahold of. They're just… Izzy, it's like all the life's been sucked right out of them. I don't know what to do."

Alec doesn't mean to let the despair creep into his voice but knows it has for the way Izzy squeezes his hand harder.

"We'll think of something," Izzy says, and they both know it's an empty promise, but Alec smiles for it anyway.

"So," he says, gesturing at his desk in an attempt to change the subject. "What do I need to know about here?"

"Nothing, at the moment. Not really, anyway," Izzy amends with a slight frown that Alec catches before she can smooth it out.

"What?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Then—"

"Alec. The Clave sent a fire message earlier to say a delegate would be calling us later today. I'm sure it's nothing to—"

"Calling?"

"A video call," Izzy says, jumping down from the desk, "in fact, in about a half hour. So, you can take it, now that you're here."

"What's this call about?" Alec asks, his nerves so tightly coiled expecting the worst.

"They didn't say. Only that it was important. Actually, they were going to ask to speak with you at home. So now that you're here—"

"Maybe they've had enough of their Head of Institute not actually being in the Institute," Alec retorts, too exhausted to deal with reprimands for not doing his job.

He wouldn't change it though, wouldn't do anything different at all. Magnus needed him, and even if to anyone else what he's experienced are only the symptoms of a heavy cold, it's been so much more than that. Magnus has been quiet one moment then scared the next, resigned to what is happening and yet still looking horrified when the truth of it comes back to him.

Alec couldn't leave him, let him go through any of that alone, so whatever punishment the Clave gives him for this, he'll take willingly and deal with the fallout in whatever way he has to. But he won't regret a second of helping Magnus. His only frustration is that he is powerless here, that for everything they've been through together, he knows right now that he isn't enough to help Magnus.

"The message only said that they needed to discuss something urgent," Izzy says, snapping Alec out of his worst-case scenarios. "It could be about anything."

"Have there been any problems here I don't know about already?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. No breaches, no patrols finding anything unusual. No reason for you to need to be physically here, really," Izzy adds, smiling at him, "so stop worrying."

"Yeah," Alec says with a snort, and finally sinks down into his chair, looking over his desk again and feeling completely out of place.

"You look exhausted," Izzy says as she spins on the corner of the desk to look at him.

"Yeah, well. Haven't exactly been doing a lot of sleeping."

"You need to take care of yourself as well, Alec. You'll make yourself sick."

Alec is so tired he can feel it in his bones. He's been using his stamina rune to get through it, only daring to sleep when he's sure Magnus is as well. Magnus probably thinks he's being overbearing and worrying too much, but Alec can't bear the look of fear on Magnus' face that's been almost a permanent feature there since this whole nightmare started.

"I will. As soon as we figure out what's going on with Magnus—and all the warlocks," Alec adds, knowing the problem can only have gotten worse in his relative absence from all that is happening.

"Alec—"

"Let's just… get me up to speed on everything that's happening here," he says, reaching for his notepad and telling himself to focus. "All I can do is… prepare myself for this call."

"Alec," Izzy says with laughter in her voice, "you're already up to date. Seriously. You've barely missed a thing. Jace and I attended your meetings, and between the three of us—with Clary—we've done everything else. Don't worry."

Alec sighs, half-exasperated that he doesn't have the distraction of work to keep him occupied. Magnus is home, alone, lethargic and going through hell. This may be the first time he's pushed Alec away throughout all of this, but it has still hit him hard. There was no anger in Magnus' voice when he'd asked for a few hours alone, yet Alec could picture the walls building between them and separating him from Magnus. All he can think about is how difficult it might be to get Magnus to bring those walls back down again, and Alec allows himself to be selfish for a moment and really miss him.

"Then. I'm gonna need coffee for this call," Alec says, a wistful thought for all the times Magnus has seemed to sense he's needed coffee and magicked it right here on to his desk.

"Then. Let's get coffee," Izzy says, hopping down from the desk once more, "we have time."

Alec wants to be alone, but also needs someone to lean on. He wraps an arm around Izzy's shoulders and squeezes, then nods for her to lead the way out.

* * *

Magnus is sleeping.

Alec stands to the side of the bed watching his chest rise and fall, taking in the softness in his expression and the way his fingers are curled around his own discarded shirt. He continues to watch in silence, debating whether to wake Magnus or leave him to rest a little longer, smiling as Magnus sighs in his sleep and stiffly rolls away, making the decision for him.

Quietly closing the bedroom door behind him, Alec unpacks the few groceries he bought on the way home after he'd checked on Catarina and makes a pot of coffee, thinking he'll need it to concentrate.

"You're back."

Alec startles at both the voice and arms snaked around his waist from behind, smiling at the kiss to his shoulder blade as he covers Magnus' arms with his own.

"I am."

"I hope you aren't too… disappointed in me," Magnus says, still pressing kisses over his back.

"Why would I be disappointed?" Alec says as he tries to turn around to face him, and though Magnus is still weak, the way he nudges against him says he isn't ready for him to yet.

"You've been so patient with me. So wonderful. So… caring. And I—"

"Just needed a little time," Alec finishes for him, spinning around to wrap Magnus in his arms. He hopes Magnus isn't about to tell him he needs more space, and squeezes him tight to avoid showing his face if that's about to happen.

"I missed you the moment you were gone," Magnus sighs, sagging against him and already feeling heavy in Alec's arms.

"You could have called me," Alec tells him gently, easing him back against the counter.

"I know. But I fell asleep with my cell phone in my hand."

Magnus nuzzling against him sleepily leaves Alec smiling, but the strength that seems to be slipping from him so rapidly has Alec guiding him out of the kitchen and to the couch, holding on to his hands as he sinks down with a huff.

"You want coffee?"

"Please," Magnus says as he settles back into the couch cushions and sighs. "How was the Institute?"

Alec opens his mouth to speak, pausing on his way back to the kitchen, having been planning what he wants to tell Magnus on the way home. "Just give me a second."

He prepares them coffee, slices up some cake that used to be one of Magnus' favorites when he still had an appetite, hoping it might entice him to eat without much protest. When he returns, Magnus is wedged into the couch corner looking a few seconds from sleep, and Alec is again torn between watching him, and needing him to listen for a little while.

"Hey. Can you stay awake for me? Try to, anyway?" He asks, pulling Magnus to rest in the crook of his arm.

"I can… make no promises," Magnus replies, though he does break off a small piece of cake from Alec's offered plate and chews it slowly, nodding for Alec to talk.

"Just for a few minutes," Alec says, kissing his forehead, and smiling when Magnus tilts his chin up to meet his lips.

"Okay. What happened at the Institute?" Magnus asks, nuzzling against him. "I know that look."

"What look?"

"That look that says there is something... unseemly you are about to tell me, either about an incident at the Institute, or something to do with the Clave. I'm guessing in this instance, it's the Clave."

"We had a call from the Clave," Alec admits, picturing the stern looks on the faces of three representatives he hadn't recognized as Jace and Izzy had crowded either side of him at his desk to view the call.

"Oh?"

"They wanted an urgent meeting."

"Then, why didn't they just portal through?"

"The permanent portals aren't working," Alec tells him, breaking off another piece of cake and holding it up to Magnus' mouth.

Magnus frowns at the cake but delicately takes it from Alec's fingers anyway before answering. "Why?"

Alec turns and raises an eyebrow, gives Magnus a moment to figure it out, and when he does, his eyes first grow startled, and then resigned.

"Because of this sickness," Magnus says, popping the cake into his mouth.

"Exactly," Alec agrees, taking a bite of cake himself. "They don't know why, exactly, or… they don't know anything. They just shut down; the High Warlock of Alicante appears to have been one of the last warlocks to have fallen ill, and when he did... bye bye, permanent portals."

"How... inconvenient," Magnus retorts, looking nothing but full of disdain, which Alec can't blame him for.

"Yeah, exactly. I think the Clave are now realizing that… I think it took that happening for them to realize this is an actual problem."

Magnus rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath. Alec leans forward for his coffee and pushes it into his hand.

"Apparently, the Clave didn't appreciate the inconvenience it will face without the assistance of warlocks for portals, and wards, and… well. So many things," he adds once Magnus has drunk a little.

"Our services have always been both revered when useful and reviled on any other occasion. Why would they notice that the warlocks were becoming ill?"

"Well, they have now. Now that they're not of any use to them," Alec says, embarrassed that it's true. "I spoke to Mom; she finds it hilarious that Shadowhunters are trying to figure out how to do things like book flights by themselves."

Alec knows he shouldn't be so judgmental since it's hardly the fault of older generations that they can't embrace technology. Though if they weren't so stuck in their ways, perhaps they would have learned to help themselves in situations like this.

"Surely Shadowhunters have flown before," Magnus says, turning to look at him more curiously.

"Well, some of them, yeah, maybe. But… most Shadowhunters have never needed to do anything other than step through a portal to get anywhere they want."

"Of course," Magnus replies with another disdainfully raised eyebrow.

"And now, there isn't a single warlock in the world who can open a portal, either for themselves or the Clave," Alec adds, reaching for his own coffee.

"Every last one of us is sick?" Magnus asks, dismayed even if Alec knows he isn't surprised. Alec leans in to kiss him hoping to give some comfort, but doesn't think he can.

"Seems that way. The Clave has—I know, belatedly—ordered all their Institutes to check in on the warlocks in their areas."

"You—"

"The New York Institute has been monitoring the warlocks here ever since you got sick. Before, even," Alec adds before Magnus can say anything else. "We've had patrols stop by trying to take supplies to those who will accept our help—unsurprisingly, I suppose, not all of them have wanted it."

Alec smiles at the nuzzled kiss pressed to his cheek and turns for another.

"Thank you, Alexander."

Alec doesn't need his thanks but smiles anyway, and takes another bite of cake before continuing. "Anyway. Now that the Clave has noticed that this is a serious problem, they've agreed to investigate."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They're sort of throwing whatever resources they can at all the Institutes. Most of them, anyway. That was what this call was about. And they… implied they were putting a special emphasis on New York," Alec adds, monitoring Magnus' expression.

"Why New York?"

"Why do you think?" Alec says, kissing his forehead and smiling when he looks confused. "Because of you."

"Me?"

"Well," Alec says, shrugging and waving between them, "because of _us_."

"I—"

"Magnus. They have a Head of Institute who's in a relationship with a powerful High Warlock whose… reputation precedes him."

Magnus' hand is up and playing with where his ear cuff usually is, that Alec misses for not having seen for so long. "They know that I'm sick too, right?"

"They do."

"And they know that… I researched—we all looked into everything we could get our hands on before this all started—and found nothing?"

"They do," Alec agrees, "but they still think—"

"Do they think I am lying about any of this?" Magnus asks with an indignant scowl. "Do they believe—"

"Magnus. No," Alec says, kissing away that scowl. "They just think that I'm in a… unique position, in that through you, we have contacts with more warlocks than probably any Institute anywhere else. That we can… I don't know, Magnus. They're talking about this collaboration between Institutes to gather as much information as we can."

"You mean, continuing the work that you and I were already doing before, that the Clave showed no interest in assisting us with at the time when it might have helped," Magnus amends, his words coming out curt.

"Essentially, yeah."

"And are the Clave aware that, had we had access to all of their resources earlier, perhaps this entire situation might have been resolved. Or even avoided altogether?" Magnus asks, sounding even more indignant.

Alec doesn't know whether that is true. This illness tore through the warlock community randomly but quickly, and he doesn't think it would have been possible to find anything to stop it. But he nods anyway, because he can't know for sure either way.

"Alexander. As much as I would love to help—as much as I wish this was over, or had never happened in the first place—you have to understand that I am not just tired. I can't summon my magic. Half the time, I barely have the strength to stay awake."

"I know," Alec agrees, "I do know that. But I… we can do this. We can… we'll work it out, together. If you can… maybe if we can try speaking to as many warlocks as possible, we'll figure out something that we're missing just because we haven't taken the time to ask yet. We can… we need to try _something_."

"And the Clave is willing to help in any way it can?" Magnus asks again, clearly not believing it.

"Of course. I don't know in what ways they can help. But we have to be able to do something. And if we're all working together on this then I… I have to believe it'll make a difference."

Magnus sips at his coffee, and Alec can tell he's planning something. But he's already yawning even as he's draining his cup, and by the time Alec has finished his own coffee, Magnus can barely keep his eyes open.

"Sleep."

"Alec—"

"I'll lay down with you," Alec promises, helping him to his feet and smiling as Magnus groans and leans against him. "We'll… let's sleep a little, then go over how we can figure this out. Okay? Together."

"How can you be tired after you've just had coffee?" Magnus mumbles as they walk through to their bedroom and he all but lands head first on the bed.

Alec smiles as he kicks off his boots and quickly shrugs out of his clothes, tugging on the comforter so they can both curl up beneath it. "It's been a long few days."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Alec walks into the apartment after picking up pizza for dinner, stifling a laugh when he sees Magnus sprawled out on the couch. He's fallen asleep dangling precariously on the edge of it, and Alec has to rush forward when he begins to roll, propping him up before he can hit the floor face first.

"Hey," he says, nudging Magnus' shoulder to wake him once he's rolled him back, "you with me?"

Magnus blinks, confused at his question, bewildered as Alec tugs him upright, and apparently startled to find he's on the couch. "Wasn't I in bed?"

"Well. I left you in bed to go get this pizza you said you wanted," Alec replies as he waves the box. It's the first meal Magnus has actually asked for in a couple of months, and the moment Magnus had made the suggestion he'd all but run down to their favorite pizza house to get it.

"I… think I wanted water," Magnus says, still dazed as he looks around the room. And then he looks down at himself, then back at Alec in alarm, his hand out and covering his crotch.

Alec fights to keep from smiling at the sight of his very naked, blushing boyfriend, disguising it with kisses over his shoulder and his neck. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"I… well, yes," Magnus says, looking down at himself then back up at Alec with a rueful smile as he draws his hand away.

"You hungry?" Alec asks, pulling a wad of napkins from his pocket as he sits.

"I think so."

"Cold?" 

"A little," Magnus admits as Alec rests the napkins on his thigh gesturing for him to take what he wants.

"You want clothes?"

"That means moving," Magnus says, his eyes lighting up as Alec leans forward to lift up the pizza box lid.

Alec is excited at the thought of Magnus' appetite returning, so only reaches behind them for a throw he drapes across Magnus' lap to keep him warm, not wanting to miss seeing him willingly eat. And as he holds out the box watching Magnus delicately free a slice to pull from it, he realizes he's even holding his breath.

"Oh," Magnus says as he hums around his first bite of pizza, and it's followed by other muttered things Alec can just about make out that leave him smiling, letting out a relieved sigh as he reaches for a slice of his own.

"It's as good as I remember," he says in agreement as he takes a bite himself, relaxing back to see Magnus nod enthusiastically and continue eating.

It takes a little time, and Magnus might only manage two slices despite this being his first meal for a couple of days. But Alec is still so pleased with his efforts that he can't help hugging him for it, earning himself an exasperated smile in the process.

"Alexander. I'm fine," Magnus says as he gestures for a napkin.

"In about three minutes from now, you're gonna be falling asleep, either here, or if you're not too stubborn, you'll let me help you back to bed," Alec points out, grabbing Magnus' wrist and wiping away an errant swipe of sauce from his little finger.

"I shouldn't need—"

"Tough," Alec says, leaning in to smack a kiss to his cheek and pleased to see Magnus laughing for it. "I don't care if you shouldn't need my help or not. You have it anyway."

"You are very good to me, Alexander."

"No better than you are to me," Alec replies. He folds back down the pizza lid, hoping he can persuade Magnus to eat a little more later, then quickly tidies up after them and extends his hands to pull Magnus to his feet.

"Alec—"

"We can talk in bed."

"I think you've spent more time in bed since I got ill than you ever did before," Magnus says as he sways against him.

"Magnus. I'm just adjusting my sleep schedule around yours."

"But—"

"But nothing," Alec says, leaning in to steal a kiss. "Now. About the warlocks here in New York—"

"I tried to call—"

"Don't worry," Alec says, lowering him on to the bed and watching him wriggle back against the headboard before leaning over him for another kiss. "We have a couple of patrols that are checking up on them as part of their regular routes. We've interviewed everyone; Izzy's sending me over a report, but from what she's heard so far, there's nothing that stands out. No one got sick after any particular events, and there were no visiting warlocks that could have passed anything on."

"Well, we never thought it was contagious—"

"True," Alec agrees as he strips for bed and sinks down beside Magnus in relief.

The last few days have been so busy that Alec is sure he could close his eyes now and not wake up for three days if left undisturbed. But he won't, instead props himself up against Magnus and takes his hand.

"So we're—"

"No closer to figuring this thing out," Alec finishes for him, mumbling an apology as he turns to half-drape himself over Magnus, and smiling as he wraps Magnus up in his arms. "But we'll get there."

"When I wake, I'll begin compiling a list of all the warlocks I have contact with internationally. Perhaps we can start with them next."

"Sounds good," Alec agrees, kissing Magnus' shoulder and holding on to him.

He wants to sleep, and he wants to stay awake, and he wants to have a solution to this as well as go back in time all at once. Alec presses his nose into Magnus' neck listening to his words begin to trail off in between yawns.

"We should stay awake a little longer," he mumbles against Magnus' ear when he starts to doze off.

"I'm trying—"

"We just ate. I don't want you to get indigestion on top of everything else."

Magnus sighs and nods against him, fighting a little harder to stay awake. He lasts all of three minutes, nudging Alec back then depositing himself on his chest the moment he lays down. Alec closes his eyes and sweeps his hands over Magnus' shoulders, knowing he'll join Magnus in sleep in just a few minutes.

* * *

Alec wakes from a dream, the tendrils of it holding on to him teasing kisses over his length through his boxers and a light grip around his base to keep him in place. Fingertips at his waistband clue Alec in to the idea that he isn't sleeping, and as he lifts his head, he watches Magnus pitching forward, nudging his thighs apart until there's a gap for his shoulders to sink into.

"Hey," Alec says, his voice croaky as he reaches out, "you don't need to do that."

"Alexander," Magnus replies as he mouths over him more insistently, "I haven't been able to get my hands, or mouth—or anything—on you in days. _Weeks_. No doubt I will fall asleep the moment I am done here—"

"Then you shouldn't exert yourself," Alec tells him, though his fingers are already tangling in his hair.

Magnus lifts his head to stare at him, and Alec swallows for the look on his face, nodding when Magnus hooks his fingers into then pings back his waistband, and raising himself enough from the bed to give him room. Magnus tugs his boxers down, pausing only when Alec sits up to remove them to make things easier for him, then is nuzzling and lapping along his length before Alec has the chance to lay back down.

Alec tucks his fingers beneath his splayed thighs and watches, determined not to get too worked up in case Magnus gets too tired. But watching his tongue lap out over his head and his fingers circling around him to drag up his shaft, it's hard not to want more. To ignore the shoots of aching pleasure it sends firing through his core.

Magnus takes his head in his mouth, darting his tongue along his slit, and sucking a little with a quick glance up at Alec, even offering a wink as he looks. And keeping that eye contact, he wraps his lips around him a little firmer, sliding down his length with his hands splayed wide at his hips to keep him in place. Alec groans for the heat engulfing him, his hips bucking up as Magnus starts to drag his lips back up.

"Magnus," he groans out, pressing his feet into the bed to splay his thighs a little wider. The soft hums falling from Magnus' mouth as he sucks him tightens that coil in Alec's gut, his stomach rippling when he takes a little more of him in. Alec tells himself again not to get too carried away, though drops his head back with a hard groan at a particularly hard suck.

"I'm sorry."

Magnus pulls away from him abruptly, and Alec looks up in time to catch the look of frustration on his face before he sags forward and yawns, hands braced against the bed and his fingers gripping the sheets in frustration.

"Hey. It's—"

"Don't tell me this is okay, Alexander," Magnus says, his words coming out tearful as he reaches for him, and takes him in his hand.

"But it is," Alec whispers as Magnus shifts up the bed to rest on his shoulder, still trying to jerk him off.

"It—"

"Hey," Alec says, ducking for a kiss and pushing his forehead against Magnus' when he lets out another blasted sigh of frustration. "I'm not… I love you, Magnus. And this—"

"This is a part of us. This is a part of what we are. And what we do together," Magnus finishes for him, failing to stifle another yawn in his neck even as he stubbornly keeps stroking him.

"One part. Only one part of it," Alec says as he covers Magnus' hand with his own, squeezing there before gently coaxing it away "And Magnus… it's okay."

"But—"

"I'm serious. How do you know that in a few days you won't feel… stronger? And we can't just… Magnus, this is okay. Seriously."

"I want you, Alec. I want you so much; that hasn't changed at all. But every time I think to reach for you, I… I'm so tired."

"Well. Maybe you're a little frustrated as well," Alec teases, rolling to cup his face and pull him into a kiss.

"I—"

"And I can definitely do something about that," he adds, tugging on Magnus' boxers so quickly he can't protest.

Alec closes his hand around Magnus' thickening length and smiles for the groan reverberating at his throat.

"I want to. I want to be able to touch you," Magnus says.

"Next time, maybe."

"But I want to see you."

I'm right here—"

"You know what I mean, Alexander," Magnus says, swallowing thickly as he looks up. "And if I… if you continue, I fear I'll fall asleep before I can see you…"

Alec presses a kiss to the top of Magnus' head as his words trail away, and hides a smile there as Magnus grips his hand and tugs until Alec is stroking himself.

"Let me watch," Magnus says with a sigh as he arranges himself more comfortably on Alec's shoulder.

Alec kisses the top of his head again as he splays his knees a little wider, gripping himself from root to tip and sure this won't take long at all. It _has_ been a while since they have had the chance to be together, and though he's honest when he says he's okay with waiting for Magnus to be stronger for this, Alec aches for how quickly pleasure rolls deep and hard through him as he gets himself off.

Magnus mumbles encouragement as he watches, gripping himself yet not stroking. Alec angles down for a kiss as he works himself faster, dropping his head back the closer he gets. His feet slip against the bed as that pleasure builds, and Magnus reaches down to press one thigh flat to keep him in place.

Alec calls his name out, gasping and half-smiling when Magnus looks up, tilting his chin for another kiss before a further wave of pleasure hits him. He swirls his thumb over his head to mop up the slickness there, grips himself a little firmer, then twists in this spot Magnus always does, arching as he spills over his hand with a deep groan.

"Thank you," Magnus says, reaching out to grip Alec’s wrist.

"Don't know what you're thanking me for," Alec says with a burst of breathy laughter.

"Yes, you do," Magnus says when he looks at him, his jaw clenching as he tries to hide another yawn.

Alec doesn't think it will be all that long before Magnus is asleep again. He yanks the boxers that are wedged under Magnus' hip free to wipe himself over, then turns Magnus until he's laid out on the bed. Alec kisses his way down Magnus' chest as he settles over him, taking him into his mouth with a deliberate hum Magnus arches for, and grips on to his hips.

Alec closes his eyes at hearing his name groaned out from Magnus' lips, determined to do this for him not knowing when he'll next get the chance. He mouths at the spot just beneath his cock head that he knows will make him whimper, then wraps his fingers around his shaft to keep him in place as he lathes over his head until he feels Magnus' hips start to buck. And then he seals his mouth around his crown and sucks before taking more of him into his mouth. Alec swallows around him, smiling for the choked out obscenities it earns him.

Magnus writhes feebly against him, stuttering Alec's name out on repeat the closer he gets. The moan falling from his lips as Alec first tastes him spilling on his tongue is quieter than Alec is used to. But he laps over him anyway, smiling for the latent judders of pleasure that make him jolt and jerk beneath him, until a final whimper says it's too much.

"Alec…" Magnus slurs out with a sleepy pat at his shoulder, already asleep by the time Alec moves next to him.

Alec smiles at the view in front of him, not able to resist dropping his head on to Magnus' stomach and laying there as he gets his breath back. When he moves back up the bed Alec props himself up on one arm, watching Magnus as he sleeps. The trust he must have in him to bear himself so totally like this to Alec, feels monumental. It isn't that Magnus is naked, it's that he allows Alec to see him at his most vulnerable. Free of makeup and adornments, or clever words he might use with other people to hide his fears.

Alec feels honored, really, that Magnus would choose to be like this with him. And it hurts so much that there is nothing he can do to help. A wave of uselessness hits him, leaving a sting in his eyes that he denies he's feeling. Alec grits his teeth and forces a smile on his face, sweeping a hand down Magnus' side.

"We're gonna get you better, Magnus," he promises him, leaning down to kiss his forehead and linger there for a moment before pushing himself from the bed.

He uses the bathroom, takes glasses of water through for them both. Then covers Magnus with a spare blanket so he doesn't get cold.

Alec watches Magnus sleep until his own eyes are falling closed with tiredness, shuffling down the bed to lay on his pillow once more. He wriggles beneath the blanket and adjusts it so it's covering them both, then laces his fingers through Magnus' against the bed, and pleads that when they both wake Magnus feels at least a little better than before.

* * *

"If you drink any more of that, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack."

Magnus grimaces at the swig of energy drink he takes and sighs before pushing the can into Alec's waiting hands. "It's not working anyway."

"No. And it's making your heart race," Alec retorts, pressing his hand over Magnus' chest and frowning at him until Magnus swallows awkwardly and looks away.

"It was worth a try."

"No. It wasn't," Alec argues, kissing his forehead and standing, intent on pouring the offending drink down the sink. "You've had a headache ever since you started drinking these things," he adds as he walks away, sure he hears Magnus mumbling behind him.

Alec is more angry with himself that he let Magnus talk him into buying the drinks for him in the first place. He's read horror stories online about half the brands he's found since, and vows to himself not to ever let another one in their apartment again.

"Perhaps the headaches are because I'm tired," Magnus says, with a half-smile that shows he knows his argument is poor.

Alec sighs but doesn't retort with half the things he'd like to about Magnus pushing himself. Instead, he grabs the remainder of the lemongrass oil he prepared and dabs it at Magnus’ temples, watching him inhale hard and close his eyes in relief.

"I stayed awake for almost four hours this time," Magnus says when he opens his eyes again. It's both an achievement and a worrying reminder of just how weak he's become.

"You did," Alec says anyway, knowing Magnus is actually doing better than most warlocks he's spoken to. Madzie seems to be constantly asleep any time he visits, and Catarina can only make it through about an hour before she's apologizing and asking him to leave. The other warlocks in the city are reporting the same. Alec has read emails and messages from some of Magnus' other warlock friends from around the world, frustrated when he can't get an immediate answer, and smiling in exasperation when he reads messages where he realizes they've fallen asleep in the middle of writing them.

"We're getting nowhere," Magnus says, sighing as he drops his head back on the couch and reaches for Alec's hand, absently playing with his fingers.

"We're doing everything we can," Alec retorts, and they are. There are regular patrols checking on all the warlocks in the city Alec’s surprised at just how many of his team volunteered for the role, wanting to help. It is a practice that is slowly beginning to work in other places across the world as well. The amount of trust these warlocks are showing, letting Shadowhunters into their homes, leaves Alec almost as proud of them as he is of his own people.

Magnus has given Alec a list of all the warlocks he knows and has contacted as many as he can before succumbing to sleep. And Alec has gritted his teeth through several difficult conversations with warlocks himself, trying not to show his frustration over them nodding off during video calls, or their blatant mistrust of a Shadowhunter contacting them in the first place.

"Then why does it feel like nothing is happening?" Magnus argues, even though it's half-hearted.

"We know some things," Alec points out, which they do. There is a pattern of older warlocks taking longer to succumb to the sickness, as well as them having a little more energy than their younger counterparts. They know no one has died from this affliction, which is always a comfort, and are yet to find a single warlock that has escaped it.

It isn't much to go on, but they are dedicating as much time as they can to it. Alec has found himself as the unofficial leader of the investigation, regularly taking calls from other Heads of Institutes across the world giving him updates, and even asking for his advice.

A fire message arrives then, and Alec pinches it from the air, noticing the look of longing on Magnus' face that he quickly kisses away before reading the message.

"I can't even do that," Magnus grumbles, burrowing into Alec's neck.

Magnus, Alec is sure, is pushing himself harder than any other warlock. He's pushing himself to stay awake beyond what he should be every chance he gets, would drink gallons of coffee if Alec didn't pry his mug from his fingers to replace it with juice or tea. Magnus looks exhausted; there is no refreshed edge to his expression when he wakes after sleeping, and it's painful to watch as he forces himself awake to begin researching through the same books and lists of information that he's already looked over so many times.

"It's nothing interesting," Alec tells him as he slots his fingers through the back of Magnus' hair. "At least, it's nothing that will help us with this. It's the Head of the Port Elizabeth Institute. She's finally managed to get hold of a couple of warlocks that were unaccounted for."

"How are they?"

"Safe. Dehydrated, and a little malnourished," Alec says, sighing at the thought of the same thing happening to Magnus, and pulling him closer for it. "They aren't really well enough to speak, but it looks like the same thing we're seeing everywhere else."

"We're not getting anywhere," Magnus huffs in frustration, but Alec knows that tone in his voice.

He waits, feeling Magnus sagging against him, debating untangling himself so he can research as Magnus sleeps. But Magnus is already asleep; Alec jostles him only enough so they can lay together on the couch, holding on to him and settling as Magnus nuzzles into his neck.

* * *

"Alec, quickly."

Alec charges across the living room the second he walks in the door, the bags of groceries he bought abandoned to the table as he sinks down beside Magnus on the couch fearing the worst.

"What is it?"

"Look at this," Magnus says, nudging at the laptop he's holding, though doesn't add anything else for the huge yawn that then erupts from his mouth. "Sorry."

The tension drops from Alec's spine leaving him free to settle more comfortably and nudge his thigh against Magnus'.

"Don't apologize," Alec says, leaning in for a kiss as he takes the laptop from him, smiling as Magnus turns so they can both see the screen. "What am I looking at?"

"I think I found our source. At least, I think I found the first warlock to have become ill."

"How?" Alec asks, looking where Magnus is jabbing his finger.

"I tried to work out the dates of when everyone fell ill. I've been compiling a spreadsheet for days—"

" _Spreadsheet_?" Alec repeats, trying hard not to smile, and ducking his head when Magnus catches him doing it.

"Alexander," he says, full of reproach, "how do you imagine I kept track of all my clients, all the ingredients necessary for my potions, and all my meetings, if I—"

"I guess I thought it was all up here," Alec says, pressing a long kiss to his forehead and smiling when Magnus sighs.

"Some of it, yes. But I kept lists, and schedules, and in more recent years… a spreadsheet."

There is no reason for Alec to feel quite as enamored by that idea as he is feeling, but it takes him a few seconds to get his helpless smile under control.

"Okay. So this spreadsheet," Alec says, nodding towards the screen.

"Amadou Kabeya, in Kinshasa. He seems to be the first warlock to have reported any of these symptoms."

"Do you know him?" Alec asks, immediately wondering if there is a way for this warlock to have come into contact with others and infected them, then remembering as he's always forgetting that this thing isn't thought to be contagious.

"I don't," Magnus replies, dropping his forehead on to Alec's shoulder, with a huff of frustration for how hard he's trying to stay awake.

Alec angles the laptop a little better to read as Magnus drapes himself over him already half-asleep, holding back his own frustration for how hard Magnus is pushing himself. He checks through the list, can see nothing that would link this Kabeya to any of the warlocks who were next in line to get sick. It's something, as much as it is nothing; there is no connection to anything Alec can see on the screen.

"You sleep a little," he says pointlessly as Magnus sighs against him with an absent kiss into his neck already halfway there.

Alec wraps an arm around Magnus to keep him still and scrolls through the spreadsheet one-handed, clicking through all the pages Magnus has open and finding nothing. He holds on to him for a few minutes more then sweeps his hands over his back, feels the rise and fall of it against his palms. Alec sighs, bending to press a kiss to the back of Magnus' head, then carefully extracts himself to put away their groceries, covering him over with a blanket as he goes.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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_Edna Akintola. Deceased. Found charred remains inside home._

Alec rereads the fire message sent from the Kinshasa Institute and closes his eyes at the image it creates for him, unconsciously checking over a sleeping Magnus to make sure he is okay. When his cell phone beeps to announce an alert, Alec reads the report accompanying the message about the warlock's death, then stands to rearrange the blankets covering Magnus on the couch before walking to the kitchen for something to drink.

This death has no known connection to the sickness that's struck all the warlocks across the world. But that it's happened in Kinshasa where Amadou Kabeya was the first warlock to become ill, and seems to have taken place only days before then, sets alarm bells off for Alec. He leaves a note for Magnus telling him he's going to the Institute since he should have left already, pulling up records from the Kinshasa Institute the moment he arrives.

There is nothing to guide him. Kinshasa seems to be no different than here in New York, with the occasional demon breaches recorded, regular patrols, and nothing that stands out as unusual. He sends himself a copy of the details anyway to read over at home, thinking perhaps it will give Magnus something to look into if nothing else.

Alec walks through to his office, feeling simultaneously separate from and attuned to the Institute at present. He wants to be home with Magnus, but now that there is nothing he can really do for him, his focus should be on work, but it isn't. Yet if he is here at the Institute then he can continue working on finding a solution to this nightmare situation. Alec is torn, his sense of duty pulling him in two directions that Magnus plays a prominent role in both of.

Warlocks have been sick for months now, and the adjustment to a world without warlock magic is slow for everyone involved. Since Magnus’ wards at the Institute have worn thin, they've seen more frequent alarms alerting them to increased demonic activity, and a need for additional security patrols around the grounds. Alec imagines it must be the same for every Institute in the world, but can't help feeling it's so much worse here because it is Magnus affected, and it's Magnus' magic that they're having to learn to do without.

It isn't just because of _them_. Magnus is an integral part of their team whenever they need him, as well as a friend to many people here in the Institute and those outside of it. That he can do so little to help Magnus and all the warlocks leaves Alec constantly frustrated. He tries to focus on the report in front of him, losing himself about halfway down the page, and realizing it's going to take several cups of coffee to get through his day.

And the day is long. Though if he thinks about it, Alec recognizes that it's no different to any other day at the Institute. There are reports to file, disputes to settle, calls and messages to filter and respond to, and questions to answer wherever he goes. There are weapon requisition forms and requests for annual leave to approve. Updates on ongoing situations across the city, and patrol schedules to finalize. And what is comforting to Alec throughout all of these things is the frequent polite knocks on his door, with inquiries asking if Magnus is doing okay. It leaves him smiling every time he gets frustrated, and Alec almost wishes he could have Magnus here to listen to all of these things for himself.

By the time he reaches home, Alec's head is fuzzy with the amount of coffee he has drunk, and there is a tension across his shoulders that he wishes he could ask Magnus to help with. He half-expects to find Magnus still in bed, already imagining climbing in beside him for a few moments of peace. But he finds him instead in the kitchen, sleepy-eyed but smiling as he prepares them something to eat.

"You okay?" Alec asks as he joins him, leaning in for a greeting kiss, his arms immediately around Magnus’ waist in case he needs to hold him up.

"I think so. I thought you might be hungry."

"I haven't eaten today," Alec says, instead of admitting he doesn't have an appetite, even if the food Magnus is preparing looks really good.

"Well then, good."

He squeezes Magnus' waist checking for himself that Magnus has the strength to keep upright, then leans back against the counter for a second before pushing away again.

"Can I help with anything?" Alec asks, looking around the kitchen for something to do.

"I don't think so. Unless you want to prepare us something to drink."

Alec nods, walking to Magnus' cocktail table and making something from memory that he knows Magnus likes.

"I took some information from the Kinshasa Institute," he tells Magnus as he rejoins him, repeating his suspicions about Edna Akintola's death. "Just about demon breaches and whatever's been happening in their area. I don't even know if it'll help, but. It's maybe worth another look."

"That isn't a name I'm familiar with," Magnus admits as he turns off the heat and gestures for Alec to pick up the plates he's left on the side. "But I can take a look after we've eaten."

Alec smiles, thinking he'll probably be too tired after dinner to stay awake for more than a few minutes, but doesn't say it out loud. "Thank you. This looks amazing."

"Anything else of interest happening in the Institute?" Magnus asks as he fills their plates, nodding for Alec to start.

"Nothing. Everything is the same as always," Alec replies, repeating all of the get-well messages he has been asked to pass on.

He doesn't want to make Magnus worry about the weakened wards, or anything else, so avoids anything that might lead Magnus to asking about them. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," Magnus admits with a pinched smile, "although much of that might have to do with Simon, and how he overcompensates for not knowing what to say with incessant rambling about… everything and nothing. You just missed him."

"What did he want?"

"Just to see how I was doing," Magnus tells him, with a soft smile that says how much that means to him even if he won't say it out loud.

"That's good."

"I think I managed an entire hour in his company before yawning," Magnus adds, his cheeks flushed with his constant embarrassment at how tired he gets.

"I'm sure Simon understands," Alec replies. Everyone does, doing their best not to notice when Magnus falls asleep mid-visit, or yawns his way through the majority of conversations.

They don't even tease when Magnus falls asleep on Alec's shoulder, or starts muttering things in his sleep that only Alec should hear. Magnus is clingy when he's tired; Alec has had to half-carry him to bed several times while in the company of others, returning to rueful smiles and lingering glances.

"Everyone is very understanding," Magnus agrees, sighing, and the tone of it makes Alec's stomach knot.

"What is it?" Alec asks, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

"This… sickness, Alexander. It's… I don't think frustrating quite covers it."

It's heartbreaking for Alec to have to watch him like this, when all he has to offer are empty platitudes that by now must have run out of bringing him any kind of comfort.

"I can't even imagine what it must be like," Alec replies, watching Magnus over the top of his glass.

"Well. I can be thankful for that if nothing else."

"Magnus—"

"I want to go outside. I miss being able to go anywhere at a moment's notice. But just the thought of how much I'll need to exert myself just to get downstairs, and I—"

"We can try to take a walk if you want," Alec suggests, thinking of a park quite close to home they might make it to before Magnus gets too tired. Maybe if they just sit on a bench and people watch, the fresh air and change of scenery might do Magnus good.

"Perhaps."

"When you're ready," Alec adds, forever fearful of just how hard Magnus pushes himself, and not wanting him to feel that he has to do anything for him.

"I don't feel as though I'll ever be ready," Magnus retorts, closing his eyes and seeming to rein in that frustration he is talking about.

Alec reaches across the table again to hold his hand, trying to offer reassurance with a swirl of his thumb. "Magnus—"

"Anyway. I'll look over this information from the Kinshasa Institute and see if anything stands out to me."

He's already half-asleep, Alec thinks, watching the effort it's taking Magnus to raise his fork to his mouth, and how he's almost leaning on his plate.

"When you're ready," Alec repeats, his own frustration bubbling to the surface and hard to hold in.

He changes the subject to make Magnus smile with stories about Jace, Izzy, and Clary. Stops mid-sentence when it's obvious sleep has already come to claim Magnus, and quietly moves around the table to pick him up and carry him back to bed.

* * *

"This is an unusual… breach."

Alec blinks himself awake at the sound of Magnus' voice, reaching for his cell phone to check the time and groaning when he realizes it's a little after three in the morning.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Magnus adds with a kiss and look of contrition as Alec pushes himself up and forces himself awake.

"It's fine," Alec says with a nuzzle against his shoulder, and it is. Magnus' sleep is erratic, with neither of them knowing when tiredness will overtake him.

From the look on Magnus' face, he's probably been awake a little while and has done his best not to disturb Alec laid next to him in their bed. The awkward way he's holding himself and angling the laptop away so the brightness doesn't reach Alec leaves him feeling guilty, even though he knows there is no point. He leans back in from where he's just kissed him and groans his way out of bed to use the bathroom.

"So. What's an unusual breach?" he asks on the way, listening to Magnus readjust more comfortably on the bed.

By the time he's back through, Magnus is better propped up against the headboard, working out a crick in his neck.

"I really didn't mean to say that out loud," Magnus says, squeezing his hand when Alec holds it out.

Alec squeezes it then reaches out to massage over the sore spot Magnus is working on, smiling when he ducks to kiss the back of his hand.

"So, it isn't unusual?"

"No. It is," Magnus says, patting the bed beside him.

Alec climbs back in and covers back up, leaning into Magnus' warmth. "Tell me."

"Well. Your sensors at the Institute pick up all demonic and angelic activity, correct? Breaches as well as authorized events. Portals being opened, and so on."

"Yes."

"Well. These are all minor demon breaches," Magnus says as he turns the laptop towards him and lifts his arm for Alec to duck under. "Things like Shax demons, and so on."

"Okay. Yeah, they look just like they do on our Institute sensors."

"Exactly. And these," Magnus points out with a soft sigh, "are records of portals being opened. It seems the last Warlock opened a portal a little over four months ago now. In... Macedonia."

This pandemic both seems several years old, and also feels like only a matter of days. Alec presses a kiss into Magnus' neck and nods towards the screen to tell him to continue speaking.

"So? What's unusual?"

"This one," Magnus says, pointing to and opening up a record on the screen.

"That… I don't think I've seen anything like that before," Alec says, screwing his eyes up in an attempt to make himself more alert, and trying to focus harder in case it's just tiredness making him not recognize what he is seeing.

"I would hope not," Magnus agrees, pulling him in closer.

"Why?"

"I can't be sure, of course, not without being there to check it for myself. And obviously, with no magic, I… Alec, it looks as though a few months ago—before all of this happened—someone attempted to open a… it looks as though someone tried to establish a connection with a dimension of hell."

Alec lets that sink in, shakes his head because he's still sleepy despite his efforts, and looks back at the screen. "Do we know… which? Or for what?"

"My best guess is Moab. And as for what, I have no way of knowing."

"Moab?" Alec asks, trying and failing to remember his history lessons and every one of his thoughts feeling blurry and slow.

"It is a dimension of hell ruled over by Belphegor."

"Something to do with… debauchery and… seduction with riches?"

Magnus finds that funny and leans in for a kiss, but nods. "Something like that. According to Mundane legends anyway. Though it's true; my brief dealings with him show him to be a demon with a great fondness for the hedonistic nature of early France. Ever wondered where the phrase wine, women, and song comes from?"

"You've… met this greater demon?" Alec asks, though why he's surprised he doesn't know. Magnus has shared so much his life with him that by now Alec knows nothing is impossible.

"Only twice when I was very young. And under my father's care."

Alec has an image of a young Magnus surrounded by ancient, gnarled beings wanting only death and destruction, tells himself it's stupid, but drapes himself across him a little tighter nonetheless.

"So. Whoever tried to open this thing… you think they were trying to contact Belphegor?"

"It has all the markings of wanting to physically go to Moab, which is why it looks so different to what I assume would have appeared on your sensors when we summoned Azazel. I can't think of any other reason to go there aside from seeking Belphegor out. Not that I can think of any good reason for doing that either, of course," Magnus adds.

"And he's… he's banished there, right? Or trapped? Or—"

"He should be," Magnus says, worryingly for Alec, with doubt in his voice. "Though, I'm sure your monitors at the various Institutes would have notified us if that wasn't the case. I hope they would."

"Would he be… do you think he'd be capable of anything that could cause this sickness?"

"I suppose anything is possible. But this doesn't seem like anything I would expect from him."

"Oh?"

"Alexander," Magnus says, with a brief squeeze around his forearm, "if anything, Belphegor would have Mundanes turning on each other in the name of wealth, and... seduction. These are things that… I can think of no connection between him, either of those things, and what has happened with us warlocks."

"No. No, I guess not," Alec agrees, closing his eyes and sighing, wishing there was at least one part of this puzzle that fit.

"I shouldn't have woken you. I'm sorry," Magnus says again, kissing the top of Alec's head when he drops it on his shoulder. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep?"

Alec thinks it will be impossible to sleep now, but Magnus closes the laptop and lays down beside him, turning to drape an arm over his side. If he can't sleep then he can lay here with Magnus, and try to shut everything else out.

Magnus leans up and presses a long kiss to Alec's forehead before settling, and Alec presses a hand to his chest, watching Magnus fall asleep in the near-dark.

* * *

"Hey. There you are."

Alec tells himself that he isn't relieved to find Magnus on the balcony, that his stomach hasn't been in knots for coming out of the shower to find him gone from the bed.

"I just needed a little air," Magnus replies without turning around.

Alec watches Magnus' fingers splay and flex against the ledge of the balcony, notes the slight stoop of his shoulders when normally he stands tall. He wants to comfort him, but if Magnus has sought out refuge here on the balcony, perhaps what he needs right now is a little space.

"You need anything?" Alec asks without moving forward, and when Magnus turns to look, makes a fuss of being busy drying his hair.

"Aside from not wanting to be like this?" Magnus says, his voice dull and making Alec's stomach clench again.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Magnus replies, turning fully and stepping towards him, reaching out to straighten Alec's collar as he so often does. "This isn't your fault. It's nobody's fault."

"Doesn't mean I'm not sorry."

He's more than sorry, Alec thinks, trying to echo the bittersweetness of Magnus' smile. He's lost, and he's angry, and he's so scared watching Magnus retreat into himself, with no way to pull him back out.

"I'm not doing so well, Alexander," Magnus says then, and it both brings Alec some relief for hearing him admit it, and makes his blood run cold.

"You're feeling sick again?" he asks, throwing his towel on to a nearby chair and reaching out to check Magnus' forehead for his temperature before he can stop himself.

"No. It's not that," Magnus replies, closing his eyes and leaning into his palm.

Alec purses his lips against any empty words that might want to spill from them, and waits with what he hopes is a reassuring smile when Magnus looks at him. He strokes a thumb over Magnus' cheek then cups his face with both his hands to kiss him, and for the soft, defeated exhale blasting from Magnus, wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

"I keep forgetting this has happened. And then when I remember, it feels worse for having to get used to the idea all over again. I am not _myself_ , Alexander."

"You are," Alec argues with a kiss to the side of his head, "you are."

"Then, there is a huge part of me that is missing."

"Sleeping," Alec says, nuzzling against him, "your magic's just... sleeping."

"Then. I wish it would wake up," Magnus replies with a soft sigh.

So does Alec. He closes his eyes again, pressing his nose into Magnus' shoulder. "Magnus. I wish I could do, or say something here that would help. But I don't know what to do here. I just... I'm here for you. And I know that's not a lot of—"

"Alec," Magnus says, leaning his head against Alec's, "you have done so much already."

"I—"

"Took care of me when I was sick. You... I don't think you understand how much that means to me."

Magnus looks so sincere, and humble for it, that Alec is struck by the idea that there haven't been enough people taking care of Magnus throughout his long life. It makes him want to strike out, to punch something, but none of that is going to help. And the thought that Magnus might feel he doesn't deserve someone taking care of him sweeps in to add even more to that livid frustration.

"Magnus," Alec says, pulling back and eyeing him curiously, not sure what to make of his words. "Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't I take care of you?"

"It is no easy task to take care of someone. Particularly someone who isn't used to getting sick."

"So? You'd do the same for me. And it's not about whether it's easy, or not, it's about... I don't even know why I need to tell you," he says, smiling as he leans in for another kiss, and trying to keep a lid on that frustration. "If you think for a second that I'd just... leave you to it, to go through all of that on your own—"

"It was, for all intents and purposes, little more than a bad cold."

"That you've never experienced before," Alec points out, dropping his hands to grip Magnus' waist. "Not like _this_ , anyway. And I don't care if it was a... if it was a papercut, or a... Magnus, this is so much more than a bad cold."

"Either way. Thank you for taking care of me," Magnus replies, reaching to cup his neck. "I hope I'm not too difficult with all of this still happening—"

"You aren't. And even if you are, I can't imagine what this is like for you, so I get it. I'd... Magnus, you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to be angry, and scared, and… mad as hell about all this. You _are_."

Magnus stares back at Alec so long that he thinks maybe he's waiting for him to say something else. But then lets out a hard, defeated sigh and pulls Alec closer. Alec holds on tight, wishing yet again that there was more he could do to help.

* * *

"Good morning, Alexander."

Alec smiles at the kisses nuzzled into his neck and stretches, his hand brushing against a naked thigh.

"Good morning," he replies without opening his eyes.

"Are you tired?"

"A little," Alec says, sure it took him hours to fall asleep, even if he's not sure why. Magnus is warm, and Alec moves a little closer, luxuriating in a stretch against him as he hugs him tight.

"Not, I'd imagine, as tired as I am likely to be in a couple of hours."

Alec smiles at the implication he hears in his voice, sighing softly at the hand smoothed down his chest when they roll apart. "Oh?"

"Alec," Magnus says with a hint of laughter in his voice, sliding his hand down to Alec's hip and pulling him to roll back towards him. "We both know that this burst of… energy, won't last long. It hasn't so far, anyway."

Reality trickles back into Alec's thoughts, hitting him with the truth of what their life is like now. He squeezes his eyes shut so Magnus won't see them brighten, and reaches out to pull him into another tight hug. He shakes his head against Magnus' shoulder when he nudges him back and strokes down over his stomach, his fingers trailing through the hair there, and then over his length.

"Magnus, you—"

"I'm awake, Alec," Magnus says as he wraps his hand around him and softly squeezes. "I don't know how long that's going to be for, or how many hours I will need to sleep after. I miss having this with you."

Alec does too, he can't deny that, nor stop his leg as it moves back to give Magnus easier access to him. He sweeps his hand down Magnus' side and lets it come to rest on his hip.

"Are you sure?"

"I need you, Alec," Magnus says, and that need is rippling through his voice.

Alec swallows thickly and leans in for a kiss, sweeping his hand over Magnus' ass and nodding.

"Are you sure?" he asks again, groaning for the heat in Magnus' kiss. The frantic way he tries to get him hard sets off alarm bells though, so Alec grips him around the wrist and gently rolls him over onto his back.

"Alec—"

"Just let me, okay? Just… relax."

Alec cups his hand against Magnus' neck to kiss him, nudging his way between his legs. He stirs his hips slow, determined to both enjoy this as long as he can, and do his best not to wear Magnus out. Which is impossible; the moment they begin to rut together they are both groaning, grabbing at one another for how long it's been since they were last together like this.

Alec reaches down between them so they can thrust into his hand, nipping at Magnus' ear and neck as he does. Magnus sweeps his hands repeatedly over his back and sides as though he can't touch enough of him, and when Alec looks, he's not sure if he's trying not to cry.

"Hey," Alec says, cradling his face with one hand as he leans in to kiss him, "it's fine. You're fine."

"It isn't," Magnus denies, his hands settling around his waist asking Alec to stop moving, "It isn't at all. But thank you. Thank you for still… wanting me like this."

Alec runs his thumb over his cheek and studies his face, not knowing what to do.

"Magnus—"

"Can you just… I need you, Alexander," Magnus says with a painful swallow, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

Alec nods and swallows back his own tears, kissing him again before pitching to the side. "Wait here for me."

"Alec—"

"I… need something," Alec adds, squeezing the hand that is reaching out for him as he stands and ducking to kiss the back of it. He walks into the bathroom and pulls out the jar of lube they keep there—that Magnus normally summons with just a snap of his fingers—and takes it back through.

Magnus' eyes fall to the jar as Alec opens is, and there is guilt in his expression for him. Alec can't bear to see it, so drops the jar on the side of the bed next to Magnus' hip and wriggles his way between his legs.

Alec laps along his length, gripping around his shaft so he can dart his tongue along Magnus' slit, shuddering for the way he arches beneath him. And then he takes him into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue as he gently holds on to his hips, keeping eye contact and smiling around him for every moan.

When he moves back up the bed, Alec opens Magnus up slowly, still smiling in encouragement for every noise spilling from his lips. Magnus drapes his arms around him as he does, and there's barely a word exchanged between them. Only absent kisses and smiles that are tinged with more sadness than either of them are ready to acknowledge.

When he slides into him, Alec lets out a deep, thankful groan, hiding his face in Magnus' neck and trembling as he tries to get his emotions under control. This isn't fair on Magnus, and it's pointless to be this upset. Magnus is still here, and still with him; the anguish he's feeling is ridiculous because he's acting like Magnus is somehow _gone_.

"I love you," he says, hating that his words come out thickened with tears.

Magnus reaches up to cup the back of his head, his thumb swirling just behind his ear in a familiar sweep that should not be adding fresh tears to Alec's eyes.

"I love you too," he whispers with a sad smile as he clenches around him and adjusts his legs. "Let's just… have this."

Alec nods and forces a smile on his face as he props himself up, leaning in for another kiss. He takes his time, monitoring Magnus' every expression, determined to make this as good for him as he can. Alec slows to wrap his fingers around Magnus and stroke him over, locking his eyes to Magnus’ face so he can catch every groan that falls from his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Alec asks, smiling for the sleepy look of satisfaction Magnus gives him, and leaning down for a kiss when urged.

"I am now," he says, already sounding exhausted, though nudging against his arm so he knows to drop his grip on him. "But you go ahead."

"Magnus—"

"Alexander," Magnus says with a tease-filled, chiding tone to his voice that breaks Alec's heart for hearing, just because of how tired he sounds.

"I—"

"I need you," Magnus repeats, squeezing his sides, "I need all of you."

Alec swallows thickly but nods, bracketing Magnus' face between his forearms as he starts to slide into him again. Magnus encourages him with an arch of his neck and a beautiful, sleepy smile that Alec tries to focus on as he drives into him, urging himself to come. But it's too much; trying to hide how upset he is as he tries to force himself to finish is not getting him anywhere.

So Alec drops down, tucking his face into Magnus' neck and instead concentrates on the feel of Magnus squeezing around him, that tight wet heat that is as much a part of his body now as it is Magnus'. Magnus is beautiful, every part of him, every sweep of hand over his back and soft shiver when Alec strikes at his prostate.

Alec adjusts on his knees so he can wrap his fingers around Magnus again, braced on one arm as he tries to match the rhythm of his hand with sliding into him. And when Magnus comes, with a long, tired moan blasting from him, he gives a tired arch that ends with him dropping hard back into his pillow with a broken huff.

When he starts to crest, Alec grinds into him, a hard, desperate groan punching from his mouth for the strength of the wave of pleasure surging through him. Magnus hums in sleepy approval, and Alec tucks in even closer, holding on as his heart rate returns to normal, still stirring his hips for the residual pleasure of being inside him.

Alec leans up and peppers kisses over Magnus' face until he laughs, then withdraws himself slowly, with both of them looking down to watch. Alec tries to keep Magnus talking as he cleans him up, then tries not to be disappointed when he's already asleep by the time he gets back to bed with a drink for them both. He lays down beside Magnus, smiling at the peaceful look on his face and waiting to see if he'll wake again. When he doesn't, Alec gently rolls him on to his back and shuffles down the bed to rest his head on his chest with his fingers tucked into his side, wishing he'd feel Magnus' arms hold him in return.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"If I still had my magic, then we could go to Moab and speak to Belphegor ourselves. Know for certain whether he has anything to do with this, or not. And if he does, find something to offer him to get him to stop."

Alec hasn't once been glad that Magnus doesn't have access to his magic since this whole thing started, but at this moment, with Magnus' words, he is. He knows what lengths Magnus will go to, to set the world right, even if it drains him of all that he has. Alec's mind taunts him with images of Magnus walking a barren landscape seeking out this Greater Demon and offering himself as the price for giving the rest of the warlocks back their lives.

"Well—"

"Don't worry," Magnus says, rolling his eyes as though reading his mind, "I don't have any intention of doing anything of the sort. Not that I would be capable of even trying; I would probably fall asleep with the effort it would take to draw the pentagram."

"You—"

"And we would have to change the carpet entirely. I have no way of cleaning up the mess that would leave anymore," Magnus adds, attempting to make him smile.

Alec sighs and forces a small smile on his lips, frustrated that there is no answer in sight for any of this. And even with the name of Belphegor to go on, researching all they can about him every moment of the last two weeks, it feels like they're pinning irrational hope on him being the solution because they have nothing else.

"We don't even know for sure that it's him responsible for what's happened," Alec says, trying to inject a little hope into his voice, hating that he's even allowing himself to think of losing hope.

"No, I suppose we don't," Magnus agrees. "But we have so little else to go on."

"Izzy's pulled up every file we have on Belphegor in the Clave. It's practically nothing."

Alec thinks of the Institute, with Clary and Jace coordinating additional patrols to make sure the warlocks throughout the city are cared for. The quiet in the hallways whenever he passes, the Shadowhunters that come up to him daily asking how Magnus is feeling. There isn't a single person who hasn't been impacted in some way by this sickness that's struck all the warlocks, and not a single one of them can do anything more to help than they are already doing.

"I have been through every single book I have here in my collection, as Catarina has done with hers."

"As has every warlock we've managed to keep in contact with," Alec points out, thinking of the frequent emails and messages he receives, and the irony he feels for having so many warlock contacts now stored in his phone.

For as long as they've been together now, Alec still feels curious, mistrustful eyes on him any time he attends a warlock event with Magnus. Not that there have been too many of them for a while, Alec adds to himself, his jaw clenching for the reminder of too many passing months.

"True," Magnus says as he raises up his hand to pinch over his eyes.

"You're getting tired again?" Alec asks as Magnus tries to disguise his yawn behind his hand.

"Only a little."

"Magnus. Go to bed."

The sun is streaming in through the window. It is a beautiful Sunday morning, one that only a few months ago they might have spent taking a lazy walk and having a picnic in Central Park. But here they are, with Magnus too tired to do anything exerting, and Alec holding himself together watching the man he loves fall apart. Furious with the world because he can't do a thing about it.

Magnus nods, offers up an apologetic smile, and moves to get up from the couch. Alec grabs his hand before he gets too far dragging him into a kiss that's frantic, and desperate, and nowhere near enough. Magnus smiles in apology, squeezing his hand before pulling away, leaving Alec to watch him returning to their bedroom, and slumping back on the couch.

* * *

Madzie is already asleep in Alec's lap. He and Magnus arrived at Catarina's less than ten minutes ago, and Alec is horrified that just their greeting hugs have already worn her out.

"I'll take her back to bed," Catarina says, groaning as she begins to push herself up from her armchair with barely any strength in her arms.

"It's fine," Alec says, carefully standing so as not to jostle Madzie even if she won't wake, "I'll take her."

Alec carries Madzie to her room and tucks her back into bed, straightening up the photo frames on her nightstand unnecessarily before returning to the lounge. He hears murmurs of conversation, but Magnus doesn't seem to have much to say, and neither does Catarina, finding them just staring at one another in sorrow as though waiting for this hellish time to pass.

"I can make tea?" Alec offers, already planning to hail a taxi downstairs when they leave, which he doesn't think will be too long from now given how exhausted Magnus and Catarina look.

"That would be wonderful," Catarina says with a tired though thankful smile.

Alec goes into the kitchen, tidying up a little as he waits for the water to boil. He sneaks out to take a bag of trash so Catarina won't have to wear herself out doing it, and makes a note of all the things he needs to buy for her when he makes his next grocery run. Probably tomorrow, he thinks as he quickly checks the fridge over. They're mostly living on soup since it takes the least effort, with Alec coming over with armfuls of vegetables and using Catarina's soup maker to prepare them enough every three or four days.

He takes their tea through with a plate of cookies, hoping to see them both eat even a little. Magnus' appetite is a little better, but Alec watches Catarina nibble a single cookie as though she can't bear the taste at all.

"Alec, thank you. I don't know what we'd do without you," Catarina says as Alec passes Magnus his tea.

"I just wish we could do more."

"You're doing so much," she says with a soft smile. "I know you've got the Institute taking on patrols to check on the warlocks here. It's more than I think any other Head of Institute would do."

"A lot of Institutes are doing it," Alec replies, not wanting to take all the credit for doing something that just seems logical to him. "It's been… interesting, for some of the Shadowhunters."

"Can you imagine Jace Wayland attempting to explain how to arrange an online grocery order with Gretchen?" Magnus says with a burst of laughter that Catarina does her best to echo, as Alec tries to picture the warlock Magnus is talking about.

"I don't honestly know who I feel most sorry for," Catarina says as she takes a sip of her tea.

"I almost wish I was there to see it."

Alec smiles behind his cup and watches them talk, longing for the times when he could curl up here and listen to them recalling stories for hours. It isn't fair that these two powerful warlocks, these two incredible people should be suffering like this, he thinks, his heart aching for Madzie asleep in her room as well. His only comfort is that none of them seem to be in any pain; Alec doesn't know if he could bear it if they were.

Magnus lasts about half an hour before his head begins falling on to Alec's shoulder, with Catarina already mostly asleep curled up in her chair. Alec offers to help her to bed since she doesn't seem like she has the energy to walk there, but she shakes her head and shifts a little as though she's planning on staying where she is.

"You can't sleep on a chair," he protests softly, holding out a hand to haul her up.

"I'll make my way over to the couch when you leave," she replies, squeezing his hand in thanks but gently pushing it away.

"Why don't you go to bed? You might feel better if—"

"To be honest, Alec? I haven't made my bed in weeks. I change Madzie's, obviously, but two beds? It's too much effort."

Alec's stomach drops, but he doesn't show the despair her words leave him in. "Okay. So I'll change your bed, put some laundry on, and—"

"You don't have to—"

"I'm sorry; I didn't even think about laundry until now," he says, rolling up his sleeves and waving away her half-hearted protests, angry with himself that he hasn't thought of this before.

Alec lays Magnus out on the couch and gets him comfortable with a kiss to his forehead as he leaves, stripping Catarina's bed in seconds and searching for new bedding. He loads the washing machine after sorting through what he thinks must be essential clothes, guessing there are at least two more loads to get the basket clear.

Alec changes Catarina's bed, scooping her up from her chair with little protest, tucking her in and leaving a glass of water on her nightstand before returning to Magnus. He wants to get him home, but thinks if he can at least get one more load of laundry in the machine, then it's less for Catarina to have to deal with. Magnus is fast asleep anyway, so Alec looks through the various books on Catarina's coffee table before tidying away the few things he knows where to put.

Catarina's handwriting is difficult to read, but Alec picks up her notepad trying to decipher her words about Belphegor, finding nothing new. He checks messages from the Institute, glad there's nothing he currently needs to be doing, and decides he'll get some groceries while he and Magnus are here at Catarina's. Smiles sadly to find Magnus in exactly the position he left him in when he returns, and leaves Madzie's favorite candy on her nightstand, sure Catarina won't object.

"Let's get you home," he whispers to Magnus once he's carried a barely-protesting Catarina through to bed, carefully rousing him on the couch.

"Alec?" he says with his eyes still closed, turning his face further into the arm of it.

"Hey."

"Where are we?"

"Catarina's."

Magnus blinks blearily up at him, groaning as Alec pulls him upright. "I fell asleep?"

"You did," Alec whispers as he drags him to his feet, draping Magnus' arm around his neck so he can hold him up.

"Thank you, Alexander."

Alec isn't sure what he's thanking him for but kisses him anyway, towing him out of Catarina's apartment and into the elevator where Magnus immediately slumps back against the wall. Alec's hands are out and around his waist to hold him up so he doesn't end up in a heap on the floor, only letting go briefly to press the button to take them down.

"We could walk back," Magnus says as he leans his head back, though it's muffled, and absent, as though he is already asleep. "It isn't far."

"Maybe next time," Alec says, pasting a smile on his face that he doesn't feel in case Magnus opens his eyes, arguing with himself about getting upset.

"Alexander. Aren't you always telling me I need fresh air?"

Alec swallows hard, wishing he could find the words to tease him back. But Magnus’ weight is already growing heavier, and by the time the elevator door pings open Alec has once again looped Magnus' arm around his neck to hold him up.

He guides him outside, blinking up at the sun thinking how cruel it is on a beautiful day like this that Magnus isn't even aware of it. Alec flags down the first taxi he sees, adjusting his grip on Magnus as he waits for it to stop. Presses a kiss to Magnus' temple as he leans into him mumbling something Alec can't make out under his breath.

"Let's get you home."

* * *

Alec feels sick. The report he's just been sent from the Head of the Kinshasa Institute confirms that Edna Akintola's home shows evidence that she'd been trying to contact a Greater Demon, even if they don't know for what reason that might have been. Alec stares at the pentagram scorched into the floor in the photos and takes in the debris around the room suggesting it went horribly wrong, picturing an awful death for her, and shaking his head to clear it.

He thinks to call Magnus, or send a message, but decides there's no point, that this is something better to share at home when he can hold him as he looks. Alec reads the report again and sends a reply, working through everything else he needs to, and thankful that there are so few interruptions.

Alec picks up some groceries when he has finished work for the day, calls in to a florist who smiles in recognition for how often he's been in of late. Magnus accepts the bouquet with an affectionate smile as Alec walks in, kissing him in thanks and taking one of the bags of groceries from his arms.

"Any news?" Magnus asks as he divides the flowers into three separate vases to place around the apartment, leaning back against the counter when Alec refuses his help for putting their groceries away.

"Actually, a little."

"Tell me," Magnus says, accepting an apple that Alec washes before handing it to him, and following him to the couch.

Alec shows him the report about Edna Akintola and her home, with Magnus zooming in to view the damage with an increasingly deepening frown.

"Well. From the looks of things she definitely attempted to contact the Greater Demon rather than summoning him here, so we have that in our favor at least."

"I guess."

"Believe me. I don't know if she would have succeeded, but I think it is probably much better if Belphegor is... agitated, and there in Moab, than anywhere near here."

"Be honest with me. Do you think it's likely that he's responsible for what's happened to you? Or do you think we're focusing so hard on this because we don't know anything else?" Alec asks, reaching out to clasp his hand.

"I think it's too much of a coincidence for Belphegor to be contacted so close to this happening," Magnus replies, waving his hand like he used to do when summoning his magic. "The question is, how is he doing this? What is he doing, exactly?"

"How are we gonna find that out without contacting him ourselves? Not that I think we should try to contact him," Alec adds quickly, not wanting to put that idea in Magnus' head.

"If we could go to Edna Akintola's home ourselves—"

"We can, if we fly there. But I don't think—"

"I don't think I'd make it to the airport without falling asleep," Magnus replies with a self-deprecating smile.

"Can we… Magnus, can you tell us what to look for? Maybe the local Shadowhunters—"

"I already spoke to the High Warlock in Kinshasa, and several other local warlocks besides. Well, I've messaged with them, anyway," Magnus amends as he frowns to himself. "They have already spoken to the Institute there, who have sent people to the house to check, and there is nothing—"

"Magnus. They might not have known what to look for. They're not like _you_ —"

"I'm flattered that you think my abilities—"

Alec nudges Magnus back in the couch and straddles his lap, hooking his elbows over his shoulders and avoiding the apple still clutched in Magnus' hand. "Magnus. I may be… biased. But you _are_ a powerful warlock. You are one of _the_ most powerful warlocks. And it's not just because of your magic. You know so much. You make connections I'm sure other warlocks would never—"

" _Biased_ —"

"So what if I am?" Alec demands, raising an eyebrow. "So what if I'm proud of you beyond anything, and wish there was a way to just… fix this for you. Or get you there, so you can find something to fix this for yourself?"

Magnus smiles at him, leaning up for a kiss. "I love you and your blind faith in my abilities."

"I love you too," Alec smiles, "and it's not blind faith."

"I don't know about that—"

"I do," Alec retorts, kissing him again, "and you're gonna—we're gonna figure this out."

* * *

"I've never seen anything like it, Alec. I mean, of course I haven't," Magnus says, scowling at himself. "But this is... beyond anything I think I could have imagined."

Alec has barely been home five minutes, and Magnus is looking more alert than he's seen him in months. He suspects it's the empty coffee pot on the table in front of Magnus that's kept him awake and itches to reach out and feel if his heart is racing, but Magnus is too busy trying to explain what he's found.

"I started going through the records we have from all the warlocks we've spoken to—"

"Your spreadsheet?"

"Yes," Magnus says, pausing to raise an eyebrow that challenges Alec not to smile. "I was looking for details of what they were doing before they fell ill. Sort of clasping at straws. But I found something interesting in the magic they were using—at least, in the last spell they used."

"Okay," Alec says, leaning down to kiss him, "I just need two minutes."

"I should be able to stay awake at least that long," Magnus teases, and Alec's pleased to hear it, pleased also to come home to find him sat out on the balcony instead of cooped up inside.

"I need something to drink. You want something—that isn't caffeinated?" Alec adds with a pointed glance at the coffee pot.

"Perhaps some water," Magnus replies, fighting back a smile as he reaches out to grab and squeeze Alec's free hand.

"Okay. What is it?" Alec asks the moment he returns, moving a chair around the table to sit beside him.

"I think that—it appears that Belphegor has manipulated a spell. Specifically, one word that is used with a certain... incantation, in warlock magic."

Alec nods, but it isn't something he's ever heard of before, so doesn't know what to make of it. "What's the word?"

" _Debere_."

"As in… to owe?" Alec asks, shaking his head.

"Yes. My best guess is that somehow, and with magic I can't even bear thinking about, Belphegor has… for want of a way to put this, cursed, or… infected the word _debere_. So that whenever it is used in a spell, it has triggered this sickness we are all suffering from. Which would explain why warlocks have fallen ill so seemingly... randomly."

"From Moab?" Alec asks, wishing he could better hide the doubt in his voice. "He's done this from there? Without even—"

"I know. It sounds crazy, I know it does, Alexander. But there is nothing else I can find, or that anyone can find, that makes any better sense than this."

"Okay," Alec says, because he's not sure what else he can say, "if that's the case, why is he doing this now? What's the reason for it?"

Magnus nods, obviously anticipating the question.

"Again, and I'm only guessing, I suppose this… Edna Akintola must have tried to contact Belphegor—for what, I can only imagine being something like wealth, or… whatever else she believed he had to offer her—"

"That's—"

"Alexander. When I tried, foolishly, to summon Azazel, look at what he was capable of doing to me."

Alec shakes his head and leans into his side, pressing a kiss to his temple and nudging against his arm until Magnus turns his head to look at him. "That wasn't all on you, okay? It wasn't. And after everything you went through after with…"

Alec's words trail away, knowing this is a conversation for another time. He loathes when Magnus tries to take responsibility for things that aren't solely down to him, yet arguing about it now isn't going to help either of them.

Magnus looks at him with a knowing smile, sliding then squeezing his hand over Alec's thigh as he leans in to kiss him. "I'm fine."

Alec shakes his head in denial, because Magnus is anything but fine. He covers Magnus' hand with his own, bites back words that will say as much but knowing they won't help. Takes a moment to rein in the anger he still feels at himself for his part in the hell Magnus went through in Valentine's body, and demands to himself that he focus. "So… you think that… this Belphegor has done this to this spell, this word for… for what?"

"Revenge? Amusement? I have no idea," Magnus says with a sigh, absently reaching out to scroll through his spreadsheet. "That nothing further has happened since the last of the warlocks were able to perform magic, I can only hope means this is all he intended. And that there is nothing worse to come."

"But a world without magic, Magnus. Without _warlock_ magic. It's… I—"

"It is the responsibility of the Clave to protect the world from demons," Magnus teases with a nudge against his arm, "perhaps without warlock magic, you will all have to just do better. Be enough."

"Well, it's _not_ enough," Alec replies, even if he knows Magnus is just teasing, "it isn't. We need… Magnus, we need you. It's… it's not about Shadowhunters, or Downworlders, or any of that. We need you—all warlocks—and your magic. We're… everything is just off without it."

Alec has been thinking about this for days now, how everything about the Shadow World seems out of sync, and uncentered without the presence of warlock magic. He's argued with himself firstly that he's biased, and secondly that he's no better than any other Shadowhunter for only noticing the importance of warlocks now their powers are absent and unobtainable for the Clave to use. Alec closes his eyes and sucks in a breath, hoping angry, frustrated words don't come spilling out, when it's the last thing Magnus needs to hear right now.

"Meaning, since we are no longer of service to the Clave, they have noticed how useful we once were," Magnus retorts, but he's smiling for it, so Alec can only lean in and kiss him.

"Yeah. That's true," Alec says, because there is no way to deny it. And even if he could deny it, he wouldn't. "But it's just… Magnus. Everything is off balance. We've got… the Downworld Cabinet isn't much of a Cabinet lately, just Luke and Raphael asking about you one minute, then arguing about fights between their packs and clans the next. The Seelies are getting bolder in the city and causing… I don't know how many we've arrested for breaching the Accords over the last month or so, but it's getting worse."

"And I'm sure with no wards up at the Institute, that isn't helping," Magnus adds with a guilty smile.

"It isn't," Alec agrees after hesitating, not wanting Magnus to feel responsible for things out of his control. "Obviously, we have Shadowhunter wards, and glamors, and… but it's just not… I don't know, Magnus. It's not like before. There's no… if this whole thing has taught me anything? Taught _us_ anything? It's that this view the Clave has, that Shadowhunters are more superior, or something; they've got it all wrong. _Nothing_ is right without your magic."

"Well," Magnus says with a small smile. "While I appreciate that sentiment—"

"I mean it, Magnus," Alec insists, turning to cup his face and staring so he can't look away. "It's not just about convenience, or… needing help. We're better with you all whole, and healthy. We're… it's just better. Balanced."

This idea that the Downworlders and Shadowhunters are two halves of the Shadow World that were meant to complement each other, not be on opposite sides, hits Alec even harder now. He sits and watches Magnus barely disguise his yawn, and wishes there was a way to take some of the weariness from his face. He's known if for a while now really, Alec thinks, if he's honest with himself about it, and the impact having Magnus in his life has had on his way of thinking.

"That is all well and good," Magnus says, unaware of the whirl of thoughts rushing through Alec's mind as he reaches out to cup Alec's face and strokes a thumb over his cheek. "But how do we use this to deal with what is happening? Without magic, I don't have any way to reverse the spell."

"Can we… could we speak to the Seelies? They have access to the leylines the same as you do—"

"This is a warlock spell," Magnus replies, shaking his head, "the only ones who can access this spell are warlocks."

"But we don't have any warlocks left with any power," Alec retorts, knowing it's pointless to be so angry when that isn't going to solve anything, yet not able to stop.

"I know. And that is the next problem we have to resolve. But this is a… at least we have this. At least we have a start."

"So—"

"So. Here is what I have to think has happened," Magnus says, sleepy though still commanding Alec's attention. "Edna Akintola tried to contact Belphegor, tried to... find a way to reach him in Moab, for whatever personal reason she may have had. Belphegor objected, as you would expect, and judging from those awful images you showed me, killed her in the most painful way you can imagine for daring to try contacting him at all."

Alec thinks of the images of what was left of Edna and swallows thickly, having to agree.

"Belphegor is outraged that a warlock would attempt to try such a thing, so wants to seek revenge. But he is banished from here, and trapped in Moab. So he does what he can from there, manipulating that particular word and warlock incantation in ways that... Alexander, there is so much magic that is beyond even my understanding."

Alec nods, his stomach clenching for all the possibilities there are with magic that he can't even imagine.

"Then," Magnus continues, "Amadou Kabeya, who was the first warlock to become ill, picked up work from a client of Edna's when they couldn't get in contact her after a... perhaps a pre-arranged meeting. I assume Amadou used the same spell that she would have been using for whatever this client wanted, which just happened to contain the word _debere_. And then... well. You know what happened after that."

It fits, Alec decides, thinking of clients that are recommended other warlocks even here in New York when one is too busy to help. "But... how would Belphegor know to... curse that particular word?"

"Well. Either Belphegor reached into Edna's mind to see what other magic she was planning or performing—"

"Greater Demons can do that?" Alec asks, horrified at the idea.

Magnus swallows thickly and smiles. "Alexander. Thanks to my father, that is a skill that I—that I used to have as well. It never came as easy to me as it did for… well. For _him_. But I could do it."

Alec imagines a bleaker, darker version of Magnus pulling thoughts like ribbons from other warlock minds. He shudders at the image he's created for himself and leans in to kiss him hard to rid himself of it. "You said _either_. You think there's another possibility?"

"Perhaps sheer luck, or bad luck, in the case of Amadou—and all of us."

"How?"

"Perhaps Belphegor felt that warlocks on the whole owed him something because of Edna's... indiscretion, or attempt at violation against him."

"Wait," Alec says, shaking his head, "we said this thing isn't contagious, right?"

"We did."

"Then… how did Madzie, and all the other young warlocks get sick? I can't… Magnus, Madzie's too young to know any kind of spells like that."

"Well. Perhaps not too young to _know_ them," Magnus says, frowning a little as he thinks, "but definitely too young to use them. Some of them, anyway."

"Then, what. The… person who performs the spell goes on to infect those warlocks around them, or something?" Alec asks, already shaking his head at the flaw in his idea. "That wouldn't work. Madzie got sick before Catarina, right?"

Magnus nods and purses his lips, but just seconds later his eyebrows raise, his mouth falling open in surprise.

"Magnus, what is it?"

"I think you might be right. About one person performing the spell and unknowingly making those around them sick."

"But—"

"Catarina took on some additional work at the hospital the week before Madzie was sick, and her regular babysitter was already sick herself. Mundane sickness," Magnus adds as Alec opens his mouth to speak. "If Madzie spent even just a few hours in the company of a warlock who had used that word in any number of possible spells, then I suppose in this scenario, it is possible that Madzie became ill there."

"And then Catarina got sick, and then you—"

"Alexander," Magnus says softly, trying to disguise another yawn, "I could have become sick from any of the warlocks I visited trying to help if they too performed the spell or were in contact with someone who had. It was only a matter of time."

"I wasn't blaming anyone," Alec replies, shaking his head and leaning in for a kiss, "I was just… trying to figure things out. Like a… an order of this happening. Not that it makes any difference now."

"This thing has been contagious all along," Magnus says, sighing in frustration and reaching up to pinch his eyes, then closing the laptop in defeat. "Perhaps just not in the way we thought. It is the person performing the spell making those around them sick, not… one sick warlock spreading the sickness to another."

"You could have picked this up from anyone who had performed this spell. Any warlock that got sick might not have shown these symptoms immediately. So you wouldn't have known."

"I know. But what is important now, is that we focus on this word, this… ailment we think Belphegor has inflicted us with through the use of this word. Probably out of sheer spite and vindictiveness," Magnus adds, his lips twisting up in loathing.

Alec nods, trying to organize his thoughts on Magnus' theory. "Well. If this is what caused all this, then that's... great that we know that. But we still need to find a way to reverse it, or... find a way to make Belphegor take it back."

Magnus nods, yawning hard and nodding against Alec, turning to wrap his arm around his waist and press his face into his neck, apparently having exerted himself beyond the capability to do anything more.

Alec wraps his arms around him and kisses the side of Magnus' head, turning the fraction he can to make out the New York skyline. Magnus grows heavier against him by the second, and when Alec's shoulder begins to protest at the strain of it, he shifts a little trying to rouse him, smiling when he can't.

"Okay, Magnus," he whispers even if he knows he's already asleep, moving him just enough so he can get his arm beneath his knees, and hoisting him up as he stands. He groans and stumbles forward for the weight of him, adjusting his grip a little so Magnus won't slip, then slowly carries him through to their bedroom and drops him as gently as he can on to their bed.

Alec sits beside him, thumb running over the messy stubble covering much of Magnus' face, before reaching and squeezing his own chin thinking he could also do to shave. He leans forward, pressing a long kiss to Magnus' forehead, then grabs a throw from the chair across the room to cover him with. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom to observe him for a few more seconds, then turns away, filling the sink with hot water for his shave.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

"We haven't been to Kinshasa together before, have we?" Alec asks as he carries out a tray of tea and sits down beside Magnus on their balcony.

"We haven't. I haven't even been there by myself."

"And it's on the… east coast of Africa, right? Towards it anyway, kind of right in the middle?" Alec says as he pours their tea, frowning when Magnus waves a hand refusing the slice of cake he offers him.

"It is, yes. Its north border runs along the Congo River, near Ile M'Bamou."

Alec tries to picture it on the map, and can't quite. "I really liked that reserve we went to in Botswana."

"Yes," Magnus agrees, absently stirring honey into his tea, "the views there were quite spectacular."

"And I loved Cape Town. And Johannesburg," Alec adds as he reminisces over the other places they have visited on the African continent.

Magnus has taken him to so many places. And though Alec knows if they want to visit anywhere again they can still go there with more conventional, Mundane ways of traveling. But that Magnus can no longer snap his fingers to portal them somewhere within seconds hits Alec as the latest in a string of painful memories. He feels helpless, and aches for all the things Magnus can no longer do for himself.

His strength waxes and wanes, capable of taking short walks and helping with grocery shopping one moment, then barely able to dress himself the next. And there are no telltale signs for Alec to look out for to know what kind of strength Magnus will have at any given moment, because whatever is happening, however well he's feeling, Magnus constantly looks tired. Alec thinks he might fall asleep on him here on the balcony even, reaching out to nudge his arm so Magnus doesn't knock over his cup.

"Maletsunyane Falls."

"Magnus?" Alec says at Magnus' out-of-nowhere outburst.

"I would have liked to have taken you to the Maletsunyane Falls in Lesotho. The views are… I would have liked to see what you thought."

Alec watches as Magnus' shoulders slump, before he pushes his cup back on to the tray. "There are so many places I wanted to take you."

"When you're better, we can—"

"Perhaps we can look at flights to somewhere closer to home, to begin with. One day," Magnus says, cutting him off.

There is no life, no interest in his words. His voice is completely monotone, and when Alec presses his fingertips just beneath Magnus' chin to turn his head, he startles at the blankness of his eyes.

"Magnus—"

Magnus shakes his head, swallowing hard, and Alec half-expects to see his eyes brightening with frustrated tears. But they don't, his gaze empty as Magnus continues to stare back at him. Alec holds his breath, convinced Magnus isn't seeing him at all.

"You gonna eat a little of this?" Alec asks, having to snatch his eyes away and lifting up the plate with cake.

Magnus turns his head to look, then shakes his head, looking down at his own lap. "I'm not hungry, Alec."

"Then—"

"I think I'll just go back to bed."

Alec opens his mouth to protest but nothing comes out as Magnus clutches at Alec's shoulder to push himself up. He watches Magnus slowly walk away from him and hears their bedroom door close. Alec tells himself Magnus has been working too hard, which is true, and that there is nothing new for him to be worrying about. The cake goes uneaten as Alec finds he can't stomach it himself, quietly drinking his tea in the afternoon breeze, praying Magnus feels stronger when he wakes.

* * *

Magnus is getting sick again.

His loss of appetite, monotone voice, and lack of interest out on the balcony a few days earlier signaled the beginning of a spiral. Alec has been trying to convince himself it isn't happening, relieved every time Magnus smiles a little more brightly, then reaching for him in alarm whenever he starts to cough.

It seems the same as before; all the symptoms of a heavy cold but this time accompanied with what seems to be a permanent migraine. Alec mixes up and applies all the treatments he can, desperate to try to help Magnus. Alec has even been to a store he knows Magnus frequents to replenish his apothecary, having to bring samples because he isn't sure he'll get the pronunciation right. The store owner didn't even eye him in suspicion like he used to whenever Alec went in with Magnus. The clerk even stopped him to ask why he hadn't seen so many of his regular customers in months. Alec didn't know how to answer.

Nothing does much besides take the edge off Magnus' symptoms. His temperature is through the roof, and no amount of sleep is bringing him any kind of relief. Alec has been fearful throughout all of this for not knowing how to help, and not knowing what to expect. But now he's truly terrified; the defeat on Magnus' face every time he opens his eyes leaves Alec feeling helpless and fearing even worse is to come. It doesn't help that Catarina and Madzie are starting to show the same symptoms as well, and that he's receiving an alarming amount of messages from around the world suggesting it is happening to warlocks everywhere.

"Magnus. What if the reason the older warlocks took so long to get sick, and were… sicker for longer, and are now stronger than all the others. What if that's deliberate?" Alec asks in a brief period of clarity for Magnus, when hallucinations have released him from cowering in Alec's arms, shielded from monsters he's seeing at the foot of their bed.

"How can that be deliberate?"

"Do you think maybe Belphegor could… I don't know. Try to harness all your powers from Moab, or something?"

"I suppose he could try," Magnus replies, exhausted and full of doubt. "But Alec, his interference has made all of our magic dormant. What use is—"

"Could he reactivate it or something?" Alec asks, knowing he's clutching at straws. "Maybe that's why you're getting sick again. Maybe this is all because he's trying to get your magic—"

"I know just as little as you, Alexander," Magnus replies with a sleepy smile and a sigh-filled kiss to his chest.

"If he were to harness all the warlock power in the world… would that be enough to break him free?"

"I don't know, Alec," Magnus says with a sigh, nuzzling against him as he turns his head and settles into the pillows. "I don't know. I don't know anything at all."

* * *

"You're looking... okay?" Alec says as he returns from the Institute to find Magnus sat at his desk in the apothecary, furiously scribbling notes as he stares at his laptop screen.

He looks alert, especially with the paleness of Magnus' face when he looks up at Alec with a tired smile.

"I had an idea, and I had to get everything down while I still can."

Alec's eyes fall on the coffee mug within Magnus' reach and hopes he hasn't drunk too much. "Okay. How can I help?"

"You just finished work. You only just got home," Magnus adds, smiling and closing his eyes when Alec leans down to kiss him on the forehead.

"So? This looks important," Alec replies, nodding towards the desk as he picks up a chair and sits down beside him, rubbing his back as Magnus pauses to cough. "Can I get you anything?"

"Not at the moment, thank you."

"Then. What are you working on?"

"I was thinking about Edna. And our discussions about Belphegor."

"Oh?"

"Remember when we said that Edna must have contacted him for something to do with wealth, or some kind of personal gain? I think it is exactly that, but more."

"What do you mean?" Alec asks, shuffling closer as Magnus points to his notes.

"Edna Akintola is, or was, an old warlock. I traced records of her through all of our history, and though I can't know her age exactly, there is evidence of her presence over more than... eight hundred years."

Alec wants to make a joke about how similar in age she could have been to Magnus, but instead just spreads his hand wider on Magnus' back and nods for him to continue. "Okay."

"Specifically," Magnus says, typing something and turning the laptop a little for Alec to look, "I have found records of her in France during the fifteenth century."

"Is that... important?"

"Well. Remember what we spoke of, about Belphegor?"

"That he... liked to drink?" Alec says, struggling to remember their exact conversation.

"That he is associated with a life of debauchery," Magnus says, smiling for a second until he once again begins to cough.

"You're getting worse," Alec says softly, even if he doesn't mean for the words to come out.

Magnus sighs, pressing his head against Alec's palm as he checks his temperature, and nods. "Which is why I need to do this now, while I still can."

There is a finality to Magnus' tone that makes Alec's blood run cold. But Magnus shakes his head to stop him from commenting, and nods back towards the screen.

"One of the records I found is of Edna and a well-dressed, extravagant man, frequenting various establishments throughout various cities in France during this period."

"Establishments?"

"Well. I am sure I don't need to spell it out for you. Anywhere they could have... fun."

Alec looks at the record Magnus is tapping over, and doesn't need to understand much French to recognize the phrases for the equivalents of brothels and taverns.

"And you think... this is Belphegor with her?"

"That is exactly what I think."

"...Why?"

Magnus huffs in frustration, trying to turn a little in his seat, but he's too weak to do it. Alec turns the chair for him, and squeezes his arm. "I can't be certain, of course. But here is my thinking. Edna, for whatever reason, summoned Belphegor sometime during the fifteenth century, looking for a way to secure some... wealth."

"Don't you always tell me warlocks are great at accumulating money?"

"Yes. Though I can't guarantee all of the world’s warlocks have gained their wealth by... scrupulous means."

"Including contacting Greater Demons?"

"Well. This case may be unique," Magnus says, squeezing Alec's hand. "It is rare for warlocks to be able to contact Greater Demons. Most warlocks, anyway."

Alec smiles, kissing Magnus' shoulder. "Present company accepted, of course."

"Of course," Magnus agrees, dropping his head against Alec's and groaning.

Alec cradles the back of his head trying to keep him still for a moment, before Magnus is pulling back and sighing, reaching out to drain his coffee.

"So. you think Edna found a way to summon Belphegor?" Alec says as he watches him, grabbing the mug from his hand and pushing it back on to the desk.

"I do. I spoke with the warlocks who knew her after we realized she was dead, and learned that she had quite the reputation."

"For?"

"An opulent lifestyle that is... well. One I would imagine was not so different in many ways from her time in France. And she was extravagant; far beyond anything I have ever been. She threw parties, and exhibitions, and... I would say from all I have learned that Edna had far more money than sense. Until she had no money at all. _Or_ sense."

Alec thinks back to the images of Edna's home, trying to remember if anything he saw was an indication of that wealth, and can't. "Okay."

"Here is my guess—and believe me, I know this is quite the story. I think that Edna found a way to contact Belphegor all those centuries ago. I think she agreed to summon him here, to give him his freedom from Moab, in exchange for her own, personal gain. _Wealth_. I think that they spent time together in France over however many years these records cover," Magnus adds, pointing towards the screen.

"And then what?"

"Either, their... friendship failed, and she sent him back by whatever means she had access to. Or she lied about his freedom being something more permanent and had every intention of banishing him again anyway when she had what she wanted."

"Okay. But if she did this back then... what does that have to do with now?"

"The warlocks in Kinshasa said that Edna lived an incredibly expensive lifestyle," Magnus repeats, growing more tired throughout his explanation. "That she rarely took clients, and when she did, it was only the most wealthy. Her lifestyle must have been incredibly hard to maintain, especially if she has been doing this for some... four hundred years."

"And you think she... contacted Belphegor again with the same proposition?" Alec asks, seeing the connections Magnus is making and thinking they fit, though make absolutely no sense. "Surely she wouldn’t... Magnus. Do you really think she would be stupid enough to go back to him after she... after she sent him back to hell?"

"I do. I can't believe she would think she could do that and have things work out a second time; not after banishing him back to Moab. But I do think that she tried."

"Okay," Alec says, lost for any other words.

"The warlocks that knew her told me that she was running out of money," Magnus continues, "that she was becoming desperate. There were stacks of unpaid bills in her house, amounting to... unimaginable debt."

" _Debt_ ," Alec repeats, raising an eyebrow when Magnus turns to look.

" _Debere_ ," Magnus agrees, "she and Belphegor were indebted to each other in many ways. Possibly more than we can know about. But her contacting him a second time to... well. Out of what I suppose amounts to sheer greed, and desperation. I can't imagine Belphegor would have been pleased to hear from her."

"So she goes to Moab. Confronts him. Asks for help. He lashes out, kills her, sends her body back along with this... curse for the word debere."

"It makes quite the statement, don't you think? Warning all other warlocks that they are in his debt? Or... well. I don't exactly know what his intention was here, other than revenge."

"It does," Alec agrees, holding back the fact that even if this is the case, it still gives them no clues on how to reverse this sickness.

"Perhaps what you said before, about Belphegor trying to harness our power, is why we have all fallen ill for a second time," Magnus adds, groaning and massaging at his temples. "Or, perhaps this is just another part of his... punishment. For Edna. For all of us."

Alec reaches up to squeeze Magnus' wrist, gently massaging at his temples himself. "I'm gonna get you something for that, okay?"

"Alec, I'm fine."

"Clearly, you're not fine," Alec retorts, squeezing his shoulders as he stands and searching through Magnus' shelves for the last of the lemongrass oil he's been working through. "I'm gonna dilute this. And then I'm gonna take you back to bed if you haven't already gone yourself."

"Alec—"

"I mean it," Alec insists, coming closer and gently gripping his jaw to raise Magnus' head up, then nodding towards the desk again. "This is good. Everything you've found out here. But it's all pointless if you make yourself too sick to do anything further."

Magnus stares back at him, and Alec prepares for his argument. Thinks the situation is so much worse when he doesn't say a single word. Magnus grips at his waist to hoist himself up, nuzzling against Alec's jaw before turning on his heel, and making his way to their bedroom.

* * *

The cough rattling through Magnus' chest has Alec wincing every time he hears it, his labored breathing scaring Alec with every gasped breath. He's tried a steam bath, eucalyptus oil, even a revolting-smelling syrup made from onions that Magnus quite rightly gagged for every sip Alec tried to get him to take, but nothing offers relief for more than a few minutes.

The purple bruises beneath Magnus' eyes are getting deeper, and darker, and Alec doesn't think either of them have slept for more than a few minutes at a time in days. He's tried sponging Magnus down to reduce his temperature when moving him leaves Magnus groaning in discomfort, and has to raise his head to feed him ice chips since he can't keep down much of anything else.

He's losing him, Alec thinks, fear rippling through him and bringing him to his knees beside the bed, trying to disguise how much he's trembling with that fear. Not that he needs to, since Magnus is barely aware of anything at all. For the past few days he's been stuck in this cycle of delirious hallucinations that taunt him near-constantly no matter how hard Alec tries to keep them back, and fitful sleep that never seems to bring him any rest.

Every time he goes to check on Catarina and Madzie, Alec fears what is waiting for him when he returns home. He never wants to leave Magnus' side, but would never forgive himself for abandoning Catarina and Madzie when they are also suffering. That Magnus' symptoms are so much worse is no argument for their neglect, but that torn feeling of wanting to be everywhere, and help everyone at once leaves Alec tightly coiled and on edge, on the verge of either snapping or breaking down in frustrated tears at any moment.

One or twice, Alec considers taking Magnus to a Mundane hospital, though knowing the risks involved for what they might find in his blood has stopped him each time. He's had a medic visit from the Institute who hooked Magnus up to fluids at least, but even that seemed to do little.

"Please don't leave me, Magnus," he whispers, kissing his hand and pleading when he can think of nothing else, has exhausted every option. "Please. Magnus, I love you. I can't… please, I can't…"

Alec's words fail as his tears overwhelm him, muffling the sound of them in the bedsheets by Magnus' arm so he doesn't have to hear them if he wakes. Pleading with him over and over to wake up.

* * *

The idea comes to Alec in the middle of the night after he's all but carried Magnus through to use the bathroom, and tucked him back into bed fearful of the way his breath rattles from his lips in erratic blasts. He is reluctant to go through Magnus' most personal things knowing instinctively that if there is anything that might help him with this then that is where it will be. But if what he's going to attempt is even possible, then surely those are the places to look.

He takes the pile of books and notes from the apothecary through to their bedroom, spreading them out on the floor so he can watch over Magnus' fitful sleep without disturbing him. And then Alec starts to read; there are passages he can barely make out, languages he translates with difficulty using the internet and other books he finds on Magnus' shelves. Symbols he tries to decipher even when his eyes sting for how tired he is.

It takes Alec four days to work through all the books he can get his hands on. The last of the energy drinks he'd mistakenly bought for Magnus get him through the most difficult of texts. By the time he is going over his notes making sure everything is as perfect as he can make it, Alec is both surprised and not surprised at all, that all those days have passed.

Alec reaches for his phone, scrolling through unanswered messages without any urge to answer them now. He sends a joint text to Jace and Izzy thanking them for taking care of the Institute. He should care more about what is happening but can't find himself able to focus on anything but Magnus.

Alec raises his head to look at Magnus, who has barely moved an inch unassisted since Alec started his research. Alec wakes him every few hours to try to get him to eat or drink something, convincing himself he will take something more than ice chips and disappointing himself every time. Alec then settles him back into bed after helping him to the bathroom, holding his hand until Magnus falls back asleep.

He's peaceful at least, Alec thinks, smiling at the unclasped hand dangling over the side of the bed and leaning forward to press a kiss on it before bracing against the bed to haul himself up with an exhausted groan.

"Hey, Magnus," he says, leaning down over him to press a kiss to his forehead, groaning at the ache in his limbs as he tries to shake a little life back into them.

Alec looks longingly at the side of the bed next to Magnus, trying to remember if he's slept recently or not. Not that he has time; picking up Magnus' arm to check his pulse, Alec's stomach churns for how fast it races. He presses another kiss to Magnus' knuckles then settles his hand back on the bed, yawning and stretching as he walks to the kitchen, sure he needs to find something to eat.

The balcony calls him, and Alec takes a hastily-fixed sandwich out with him, breathing in the first fresh air he's had in days. But he's reminded that in all the time he's been reading, and working out the finer details of his plan, he hasn't found the time to check on Catarina and Madzie. Alec eats his sandwich in a few quick bites and quickly changes his clothes, making a mental list of the few things he needs for him and Magnus, as well as for this plan.

By the time Alec returns home he is too exhausted to do anything but collapse beside Magnus, giving in to his need for rest. He is asleep within minutes, and startles awake a stretch of time later that he can't work out, for having no idea when he left the apartment.

Magnus has rolled over in his sleep, seeking Alec's warmth even when he's drifting in and out of consciousness. Alec reaches out to stroke the back of his head before hugging him closer.

"I miss you," he says, hating how self-pitying he feels, wanting only to lay here and be with Magnus.

Alec indulges in holding him until the light begins to dim, then reaches out for the bedside lamp before extracting himself from under Magnus. He takes a shower, puts away the groceries he bought on the way home, and forces down another meal he barely tastes while going over his notes once more.

The incantation is complex, the words hard to pronounce and emphasize. Alec is no warlock, so the magic he will have to use is not really magic at all, just the evoking of powers using potions to interact with the leylines, misuse of his stele, and ingredients he has no idea where to buy.

Alec raids Magnus' apothecary carefully following his own instructions to make everything he needs, thankful that what he believes is necessary is already at hand. He debates calling Clary to get her to help with the pentagram since some of the symbols needed between its points are intricate, and his hands are unsteady with fear and lack of sleep. But that would drag her into this mess, and Alec wouldn't know the first thing about getting her back out, so he traces the symbols out over and over on a notepad at Magnus' desk until he's happy with them.

When he's prepared everything he needs, Alec checks Magnus over, his heart thudding for the waxy sheen of his skin and the listlessness when he tries to raise his arm. Alec presses a kiss to his forehead, wincing at the heat against his lips, and checks over all the treatments he's been making for Magnus for a final time.

Alec lifts Magnus' head to try to get some fluids into him, sponges him clean and applies the oils he's prepared everywhere he can. And then there is nothing else he can do; Alec stands to the side of the bed holding Magnus' hand, trying to neither jostle him nor show how frightened he is; even if Magnus hasn't opened his eyes properly for days.

"I'm gonna be back in a little while, okay, Magnus?" he says, circling his thumb over the back of his hand. "And I… I won't be gone long. And when I get back, we'll… we'll get you better. We'll get you better, Magnus. I promise."

Alec grits his teeth against the tears that are falling, tries to steady his breathing, and squeezes shut his eyes. His vision blurs when he opens them again, backhanding those tears from his cheeks and shaking his head in denial.

"I love you, Magnus," he whispers close to his ear. He aches at the lack of response when he presses a kiss to Magnus’ mouth. "I love you. And I'll be back soon."

Alec allows himself several more seconds of looking, then squeezes Magnus' hand for a final time. He itches to reach for Magnus again, yet knows if he does he'll find more reasons not to leave him, so he walks back out of their bedroom and through to the apothecary, fists clenching and unclenching down by his sides. The pentagram is as accurate as it can be. He's rehearsed the incantation perfectly, and everything else he needs is in place. Alec glances around him at the room then focuses on the task ahead, thinking only of Magnus.

Alec pours the potion he's made over the lines of the pentagram, wincing at the flush of heat as flames immediately jump up. He steps into them, gasping for the pain licking up his legs, calling out his incantation as precisely as he can make it, with Asmodeus' name roaring in his ears from his own voice as the ground opens up beneath him, and Alec feels the flames engulfing him as he falls.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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The landscape is a stormy desert backlit against an ominous cloud-filled orange sky, with dust and dirt beneath his feet raising up in lazy swirls the moment Alec straightens up from his descent. Occasional flames blast up and shimmer into the air on the horizon, as winged demons swoop by overhead, casting long shadows over the ground.

Edom is both as horrifying as Alec has been imagining, and altogether worse than anything he's been worrying about. But he can't let himself think about anything but what he came here to do, so he tries to get his bearings.

The land is as barren as Alec had been picturing, with an eerie stillness that feels like it rushes in at him from all directions. Shapes that he can’t identify loom up everywhere he looks, and there is a sense of foreboding that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. The weight of what he has done, and where he's sent himself strikes hard at Alec, leaving him standing stranded to the spot and panting in fear, staring over his surroundings feeling more out of his depth than he ever has. It takes a couple of minutes for Alec to get himself together, gritting his teeth in determination he doesn't feel, with false confidence straightening his spine as he forces himself to keep moving.

There is a building in the distance, and Alec is struck by the sudden thought that he has no address for where he's supposed to go. He doesn't even have a way back, really, aside from holding on to a hope that if Asmodeus refuses to help him, the least he might do is send him home. Not that he has any reason to think Asmodeus would do anything to help him, of course; Alec is reminded of brief conversations he has had with Magnus about his father in the past that have told him nothing good.

Alec squares his shoulders and argues with himself to stop thinking so much, heading for the building he can see in the distance, the heat of the air drying his throat out more the closer he gets. There are candles flickering from within when he reaches it, dancing flame shadows over piles of rubble and thickly-stacked books when he peers inside. Alec takes a burning breath before he steps through the doorway, telling himself again that he is more confident than he feels. He ignores the quake in his fingers by pretending he is holding on to Magnus' hand, then chides himself for even a second of not focusing on the task ahead.

A rumbling voice calls out from the depths of the structure, Alec's eardrums near-piercing for the unfamiliar frequency. He stumbles forward, one hand out ready to brace himself should he fall since the noise is making him dizzy. Alec makes a path through the scatters of books and debris on either side of him not knowing where he's heading, watching them appear to jump in the flickering candlelight every time he turns his head.

"I said, who dares—"

Alec doesn't make out the rest of the words growled at him for the blast of pain hitting him in the chest, immediately spreading out to lick its way through every vein. He's held in an invisible vice grip even without anyone touching him, and the only movement he has Alec uses to raise his head a couple of inches, seeking the origin of the voice out.

"You are very far from home, _boy_."

Asmodeus, Alec thinks, his heart pounding in protest for the reality of being here and seeing the glint in Asmodeus' eye as he lopes towards him. What he was expecting, Alec doesn't know. But though the man stood before him looks no more menacing than any Mundane he'd pass in the street, there is a presence, an authority that seems to seep from him, leaving Alec even more afraid.

"I came here for your help," he stutters out, groaning at a fresh blast of pain that leaves him instinctively curling forward, even if he cannot move.

The pain is heat, and ice, constriction and expansion all at the same time. He has no air in his lungs, then is drowning in too much of it. Wants to rip off his skin for the temperature tearing through it, and then curl up to shield against the cold. Alec knows agony that he's sure he has never been capable of imagining, and begs with himself to survive it, bargaining in minutes at a time.

"It has been an age since a mere _Shadowhunter_ has dared to set foot in my realm," Asmodeus says as he comes to a stop before him.

Alec's eyes are drawn to the long black cane Asmodeus is resting on, and can't tell if it is just a prop or a necessity.

"I know—"

"And you dare to come here, asking for my help?" Asmodeus demands, indignant fury rippling from him in waves.

The power in his voice rattles and ricochets throughout the building, with Alec wondering belatedly if this is Asmodeus' home. Is it glamored like the Institute, to appear different to those who aren't supposed to be here? Or is this a purposely ominous throne room, so any intruders are immediately out of their depth?

"Answer me," Asmodeus growls out, and Alec swears he feels his rib cage cracking as Asmodeus raises his hand and squeezes it into a fist, Alec rising and his whole body constricting with the motion.

Alec knows he'd be falling to his knees were it not for this invisible grip holding on to him. He tries to breathe through the pain, allowing only short sharp breaths in an attempt not to aggravate it, and lifts his head again.

"I know your son," he says, watching Asmodeus' eyes narrow immediately.

"I have fathered many children," Asmodeus scoffs with a disdainful look. "None of whom would belittle themselves enough to keep the company of a Shadowhunter."

"It's Magnus. Magnus—"

"Magnus Bane?" Asmodeus says, his voice incredulous, and his eyes flaring in furious disbelief.

"Yes."

"What would Magnus Bane _need_ , or _want_ , from a Shadowhunter? What help would he need that he cannot approach his father to ask for _himself_? He is my child, my son; Magnus Bane has powers and strength like none of any other of my children," Asmodeus adds, glaring at Alec. "There is nothing he would require that he would need you to ask for on his behalf."

"I—"

"You are _lying_ ," Asmodeus seethes, gripping his hand tighter. "Try again."

The pain is crippling. Alec can barely think of anything besides the agony roaring through him and raging beneath his skin. He hears himself calling out even though he tries to stop himself, the wail erupting from his throat pitiful, and earning Asmodeus' contempt.

"You should not have come."

"I had to. For Magnus—"

"Where is Magnus?" Asmodeus asks, narrowing his eyes further.

"He's sick. He's ill... _please_..."

Alec catches Asmodeus' jaw clench before he's crying out for the fresh blast of pain flaring through him, and once again is begging himself to find strength.

"Talk. And talk quickly. And perhaps I will make yours a less painful death. It has been a while since I've had such... amusement," Asmodeus adds, smiling at Alec when he looks up.

Alec gasps out a breath, his throat so parched he feels like his tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. But he forces his thoughts to Magnus, sucks in a sharper breath, and tells himself he's not in any pain at all.

"I said, _quickly_ ," Asmodeus commands, his fingers unfurling from his fist and beckoning towards Alec, a gesture that involuntarily loosens his tongue.

Without hesitating, Alec blasts out a jumble of words he can only hope make sense. He talks without stopping, telling Asmodeus of the warlocks and their sickness, their belief that Belphegor is responsible, and how he fears Magnus is slipping away.

"He's so sick," Alec adds, the pain of watching Magnus deteriorate erupting a belated sob from his throat. "Please. We need to help him."

"You care for him," Asmodeus says sounding both amused and indifferent. Alec has the sensation that he is pulling thoughts from his mind.

"I do. I do care for him. And—"

"I suppose Magnus always did have an eye for beautiful things," Asmodeus replies, looking Alec over dismissively. "I'm sure he must have all kinds of trinkets scattered across the world for his amusement. I wonder what he intends to do with _you_?"

He's goading him, Alec knows that, can see the triumphant, steely look in his eyes. But he has to keep going, he has to bear anything Asmodeus throws at him, for Magnus.

"Please," he says, gasping for breath, "I don't care what you think, or do. I just want you to help Magnus."

"And you believe that I can do what about this… plague it seems the warlocks have brought upon themselves?" Asmodeus asks, smiling as though this might be the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Why would you think for a moment, that I would have any interest in this at all?"

"I—"

"Belphegor would not waste his time taunting your world, unless provoked," Asmodeus adds, and Alec feels dismissed. "Whatever has happened, the warlocks have brought this on themselves. Probably with greed, or seeking power—"

"One warlock. We think that one warlock—"

"It is the burden of all warlocks to bear should one be so bold," Asmodeus retorts, his eyes casting a disparaging glance over Alec as he talks. "Would you not expect all Shadowhunters to face punishment were one of you to offend the Angel? Or do the Clave still view themselves as above their own laws?"

"I’m—"

"Wasting my time," Asmodeus says, turning from Alec and beginning to pace. "You think I have any interest in the trivial matters of your world?"

"Magnus. I think you have an interest in _Magnus_ ," Alec calls out, gasping as another bolt of pain surging through his limbs.

"Magnus had the opportunity to hold your world in the palm of his hand," Asmodeus seethes, loping back towards him. "Magnus had the opportunity to rule this world by my side. And instead, he chose to banish me here. To toss aside his only remaining family."

"You tricked his mother," Alec gasps out as he tries to suck in more air. "And she killed herself because—"

"She realized what she had spawned," Asmodeus finishes for him, seeming thoroughly amused.

"But you—"

"I admit to indulging in certain... proclivities," Asmodeus replies, inspecting his own hand. "It is not my fault that the woman was so easy to fool into thinking it was her husband who—"

"I don't care about that," Alec calls out, fighting for breath, "I care about him. About Magnus."

He does care, he thinks, but now is not the time. Asmodeus' walk is becoming more and more erratic, his cane striking the ground with increasing fury, and Alec is sure it will only be a matter of time before he lashes out.

"You are wasting my time," Asmodeus seethes, and with a careless blast from his palm sends more pain rippling through Alec.

Alec tries and fails to find any words that could placate him, can barely do a thing but hold on to the wail threatening to rip from his mouth for the pain he is in. " _Please_ —"

"He chose to live amongst the Mundanes, and other, lesser Downworlders. And, apparently, Shadowhunters," Asmodeus adds as he turns away again before walking back towards him, his eyes lingering over Alec with increasing amusement. "I can smell him on you."

"You—"

Asmodeus rushes forward until they are less than a foot apart, his eyes narrowing as he stares Alec down. Alec daren't look away, barely allowing himself to swallow until Asmodeus steps back again, his gaze falling to Alec's chest, and smiling once more.

"I can see into your heart, Shadowhunter. I can see what it is you truly want. What you would ask for, if the choice were given to you."

"So what?" Alec says, trying to keep his voice level and not show how much pain he is in. How terrified he is.

"Not much of a leader, are you?" Asmodeus taunts in amusement. "If you would be willing to sacrifice the lives of every warlock in the world, only to keep Magnus—"

"I would do anything and everything to keep Magnus safe. To get his magic back. It's true," Alec says, his words coming out in another wail of agony. "That doesn't mean I want every other warlock to suffer, or—"

"You are _selfish_ ," Asmodeus goads, and he seems happy about it. "You wouldn't care if the rest of the warlocks burned."

"That's not true. It _isn't_. It—"

"You would watch the entire world burn to save Magnus," Asmodeus adds, delight seeping into his expression. "Your duty is to lead, and to protect. Yet you would give all of that up, sacrifice everything else in this world of yours, if it meant saving Magnus. It taunts you, that you would give up all that you have ever known. For one person. For _yourself_."

"I—"

"You, Shadowhunter, have found that elusive love that you never imagined you would experience. And now that you have it, you would do anything to keep it. You fear what you would become without it. And you fear what it would make you do. I enjoy seeing the conflict it raises in you."

Alec can't argue, or lie, or do much of anything at all. "I came here to ask for your help. I'm not gonna apologize, or feel bad for—I came here because of your son."

"You _love_ my son," Asmodeus says, and Alec thinks at first he's trying to taunt him for it, like he has been for everything else. But then he realizes the tone in Asmodeus' voice is one of surprise.

"More than anything," Alec says, forcing himself to hold eye contact despite the pain he's in. "More than I ever knew I could."

"Interesting."

"I love him. And you're right, I would do anything for him," Alec adds, gritting his teeth to stop them chattering with pain. "I'd give you _myself_ if I had nothing else to offer, if it meant him getting better—"

"Would you, now?"

Alec knows it's a trap even without the sinister tone seeping into Asmodeus' voice. He knows he can't trust the man before him, but also knows he has no choice, even if he doesn't know what Asmodeus would want from him. Alec swallows hard, and begs his voice to come out more steady that he feels. "Yes. For Magnus, yes. I would. I'd do anything. _Give_ you anything. Anything you ask."

"Then—"

"And if you were a real father, you wouldn't need any kind of bargaining tool to help your son," he adds, knowing it unwise to taunt a Greater Demon, but the words coming out before he can stop them—not that he wants to take them back.

Asmodeus becomes perfectly still, observing Alec as though he's monitoring every slight movement, every exhale of breath.

"Magnus—"

"What do you want from me?" Asmodeus demands, coming closer to Alec once again.

The quiet fury he sometimes sees in Magnus' eyes is there in Asmodeus', and though Alec doesn't want to see it, or any slither of similarities anywhere else between father and son, they are there. It's in his scowl, the way he narrows his eyes, even in the way he holds himself when he is trying to keep that fury contained. It makes Alec ache with how much he misses Magnus, wishing more than anything he could just go home.

But he needs to help Magnus, he needs to get help for Magnus, and whatever it takes to get him better is what he will give.

"If it is in your power, and I know that it is, then I want you reverse this spell that's incapacitated all the warlocks," Alec says, trying to keep his words steady. "To reverse this thing that's making them all ill. I want you to return their powers."

"So bold of you to—"

"And I want you to leave Magnus in peace, to live his life freely without your interference; even if you do help with this," Alec adds, the words again blasting from his mouth as though he has no control over them. Alec considers if this is an influence of Asmodeus' magic.

"You ask so much," Asmodeus says with a sigh as though it is beyond his power, and if not beyond his power, then not worthy enough of his interest.

"Magnus is worth all of it," Alec retorts, holding his head high when Asmodeus laughs at him.

"Interesting that for every one of those demands you are making, all I can hear is how much you want to save _Magnus_."

"We've been over this," Alec snaps, gritting his teeth through the answering surge of pain. "Either you're gonna help, or I'm gonna have to find some other way of getting to Moab to—"

"You think Belphegor will listen to you?" Asmodeus taunts, smiling in amusement. "Do you think this is some sort of... trekking expedition you have taken yourself on? That you can walk between one realm of hell and another, meeting no difficulty or consequence at all?"

" _You're_ listening to me," Alec points out.

"I am tolerating you for the sake of my son."

"So you _do_ care enough about him enough to help us out here," Alec argues, bracing for another blast of pain and just about disguising his relief when it doesn't come.

"I don't—"

"I don't believe for a second that you don't care about him," Alec says, realizing he has a couple of inches more of movement than he just had. "I think you love your son. That you hide it, because he doesn't love you back the way you want him to. That it taunts you, because you no longer command his respect because of who you are. Because of all you have done."

"Listen, boy," Asmodeus says, raising his hand and backhanding Alec across the face. "I do not let people into my home for them to insult me."

"And yet you _are_ hearing me. You _are_ listening to me," Alec says, clutching at straws as his breath gasps out of him. "And you told me you're doing that because of Magnus—"

"An ungrateful child who rejected his father. Who gave up all that we could have shared together—"

"He was just a child," Alec says, staring back and pleading with his heart to stop racing.

"He was no mere boy by the time—"

"Magnus told me," Alec blurts out, gasping for breath at the tightening of his chest. "He told me everything. He told me of all the things you did together. All the things he wishes he could take back, and make better. He is ashamed of the side of himself that comes from you."

"If he is so ashamed of me, why would you have the audacity to assume I would want to help such an ungrateful offspring of mine?" Asmodeus counters, coming ever closer.

"Because you love him," Alec says, "because you... because he is the only family you have left too."

"Magnus—"

"I'm gonna help Magnus," Alec says, biting back another moan of agony, "whatever it takes. Whatever it is I have to do."

"So ambitious—"

"If you think I can't find my way to Moab to confront Belphegor myself, when I found my way here. When I blasted Azazel back to Duduael," Alec adds with more confidence than he feels.

It's pointless. He knows Asmodeus will know that he's bluffing, and he knows he is no match for a Greater Demon in their own realm. But something tells Alec to keep pushing and keep goading, watching as Asmodeus' face clears into an expression that tells Alec whatever decision he's going to make, he's going to hear about very soon.

"If I do this. What will you give me in return?" Asmodeus asks, his voice calmer and softer since Alec's arrival, which he thinks is a sign of something more dangerous and sinister to come.

Asmodeus is driving their conversation in circles, Alec knows that he is, knows it's probably intentional to confuse him into saying or offering something he shouldn't. He both tries to stall for time and think of an answer that might get him to agree to help Magnus, but the agony he is in is doing nothing to help clear his mind.

"You can snap your fingers and end this in seconds, and you're asking me what I can give _you_?" Alec asks, injecting a pain-filled laugh into his voice, that he hears come out as hysterical. "Why don't you just take it? Take whatever you want from me."

He hasn't got anything to give, Alec realizes not for the first time. There is nothing he could offer that a Prince of Hell would want. But he'll offer it, whatever Asmodeus thinks he can make use of, he'll agree to help Magnus.

"Oh, but the honor is in the deed," Asmodeus taunts with a smile that leaves Alec swallowing hard. "Isn't that what you Shadowhunters say? There is something to be gained from making you aware of what it is you're giving up."

"I don't know what I have to give you," Alec replies, trying to think on his feet, trying not to let Asmodeus catch him off guard. "I don't know what it is you want."

"Would you give me your life, if you could?" Asmodeus asks, his words coming out mild as he raises his hand to inspect his fingers, as though his request is nothing but a mild inconvenience to Alec.

In his preparation over the past few days, Alec has already admitted to himself this might be the outcome of this situation. He has already promised himself that if this is what it comes to, then he would make this sacrifice, so long as there was a way to guarantee Asmodeus would help. He doesn't want to, the thought of not seeing Magnus again, or not seeing Magnus recover making his heart beat hard in protest, and the ache of missing Magnus that has been part of him for weeks rising up again to taunt him for what he might be about to lose. But if there is no other choice, and if the only way to help Magnus is to give himself, then Alec will give everything.

Alec swallows hard again and squares his shoulders, says goodbyes he wishes he could make in person. Tries not to think of Izzy, Max, or Jace mourning him for too long. Silently asks his mother to check in on Magnus from time to time while she can, to let him know that this isn't his fault.

"For Magnus," Alec says, tilting his chin in defiance, "for Magnus, yes. Anything. Everything. Whatever it is that you ask."

"And yet. If I take your life, no doubt the moment Magnus is well enough to confront me, he will be here, in all his indignant fury," Asmodeus sighs, as though that would be the biggest inconvenience to him of all. "I don't think I can bear to hear his complaints. He can be so… dramatic about these things."

"Then what do you want?" Alec demands again, becoming even more fearful for the way Asmodeus is deliberately stalling. He wants this over, however this is going to end.

Asmodeus smiles and holds out his hand, beckoning Alec closer and freeing him from the invisible restraints he's held him in for so long. "Come."

* * *

"Alec?"

Magnus' voice is barely a croak when Alec returns, and Alec first runs a thumb over his throat wishing that was enough to soothe him, then leans in to kiss him. Closing his eyes and wishing Magnus had the strength to kiss him back.

"You're gonna be fine, Magnus. I promise."

Magnus' eyes blow wide in alarm, flitting over his face as though he can already see what is happening to Alec. Alec can feel it already, he's sure of it, a dull, gnawing ache that seems to be seeping through every nerve. But he holds still and smiles back more easily than he feels, only wanting to heal Magnus.

"Alexander. What did you do?"

"Don't worry," Alec tells him, reaching up to sweep sweat-sticky hair back from his forehead, and looking forward to crawling into bed beside Magnus to sleep for a few hours. Or days. "I have something for you."

Alec raises his hands, pleads with himself not to forget Asmodeus' instructions, and begs that Asmodeus was not lying to him. He watches in fascination as a whirl of yellow and orange starts flickering from his palms with enough heat to feel like actual flames. Then tries to disguise the pain he's in when it feels like it's searing away his skin.

"Alec—"

"This is a… he said you should think of this as a gift," Alec says, wondering how this magic he's delivering from Asmodeus is going to help all the warlocks in the world, when he's only here with Magnus. But he presses his palms to Magnus' chest anyway, splaying his fingers wide and watching Magnus lift his head to watch.

"What—"

"Just relax," Alec says, trying to do the same himself.

The moment the words Asmodeus taught him come tumbling from his mouth, the heat surging from his hands doubles in intensity, leaving Alec fighting hard to finish his incantation without calling out for the pain he's in. He watches the outline of his hand glow white-hot, then as he speaks the final word, that glow become so blinding, that he has to shut his eyes.

Alec feels Magnus arch beneath him, catches a glimpse of his chest tilting upwards as his head presses hard into his pillow. Alec can't look for long, the intensity of the light far too much, and already leaving his eyes stinging. But he can feel Asmodeus' magic coursing through him, so he focuses on that, forces himself to keep contact with Magnus even as the pain of it roars through his arms.

The moment the last tendrils of Asmodeus' magic leaves him, Alec feels Magnus slump back down to the bed. He snatches his eyes open, watching the light emanating from his own hands start to dissipate and fade, as though it is being diluted into the very air around them.

A groaned out moan spills from Magnus' lips, and he curls up into himself for a moment as though he is in pain before he lays flat again. Alec leans over him, first pressing a palm against his heart to reassure himself it's still beating, and then pushing hair back from Magnus' face, stroking his hand, finding every reason he can to touch him.

Magnus isn't stirring, but Alec is comforted enough to know he is only asleep. He forces himself up from the bed with his own groan, kicking off his shoes and bending down to pull his socks off, then unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants down as well. Every part of him aches as though there isn't a vein in his body that isn't bruised. Which is probably exactly what has happened to him, Alec thinks, swallowing away the bile rising in his throat as he remembers Edom, and all that has just happened to him there.

Alec is sure he can feel the demon blood coursing through and filling the space his Nephilim blood used to occupy, and sags under the pain of it even as he shrugs out of his shirt. The power Asmodeus wielded over Belphegor, summoning him into his realm with a careless wave of his hand and draining his blood before killing him is an image Alec knows he won't likely stop replaying. Nor the pain of that blood replacing his own; Alec closes his eyes and wills himself to forget, even if it's only temporarily, just long enough to get him through this for Magnus.

"Alexander—"

Alec crawls back on to the bed, trying not to put too much pressure on Magnus' chest as he leans over to kiss him, before sitting back on his haunches to inspect his own palms. When he is sure there are no residual signs of Asmodeus' magic there, Alec checks Magnus over a final time, and even manages a small smile when Magnus cracks open his eyes. Then Alec is collapsing in an exhausted heap beside him; there is no energy left in Alec for anything but reaching for Magnus' hand. Alec listens to Magnus croak out his name in fear as he succumbs to sleep, waiting for whatever is about to happen to him to truly begin.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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When Alec wakes again, for the first time in months he doesn't feel like he's still on the verge of falling straight back to sleep. And it takes him a moment to adjust to the feeling of being refreshed for how long it's been since he last felt like this. Alec stretches out cautiously, checking that he's not still in the middle of a taunting dream, and is relieved to feel Magnus there by his side.

Alec lifts his head, smiles to see Magnus sleeping peacefully, yet can only enjoy it for a few seconds before his bladder protests. He groans, drags himself from the bed to relieve himself, then stares at his reflection as he brushes his teeth, looking for any signs of the changes that are happening to him.

There is hope flowing through Alec that he hasn't been able to embrace until now. And there is also fear of the unknown. It's a twisting, cramping feeling that is making his heart race in excitement one moment and his stomach plummet in terror in the next. If it's this new existence searing through his blood making him feel like that, or just the sheer relief of believing Magnus will recover, Alec isn't sure. But the continuous stream of messages he finds waiting for him from warlocks the world over, along with how much better Magnus is looking already, allows Alec to trust in Asmodeus' words—about both the warlocks, and himself.

Even though Magnus hasn't woken again since he arrived home, Alec can see the life returning to his face, he is convinced of it. Gone is that pallid, waxy sheen to his skin, along with those deep bruises of exhaustion that had become a permanent feature beneath his eyes. He's not eaten or drank anything in however many hours it's been since before Alec left, yet despite that, Magnus looks stronger than he has in weeks.

Alec sits in the chair towards the foot of the bed and watches him sleep, unconsciously smiling every time he sees Magnus move. He's dreaming about something, Alec thinks, sure from the lack of frown on his face that it must be something good. He can't wait for him to wake up, to see him whole again and happy, but will willingly sit here an eternity for it if that is how long he has to wait.

It isn't as though he doesn't have the time now.

Immortal. He is immortal now, just as immortal as the man laid out before him in their bed. Alec can't pretend he's never wondered about immortality, or tried to raise the subject in discussions with Magnus before. The difficulty of its divide between them has often ended those talks abruptly, with neither one of them wanting their reality to be true.

It isn't like that now. Alec gets to stay with Magnus, indefinitely. And though he knows there are so many things he needs to consider—from what this means for his family and work to what he's going to do with this endless stretch of time he has now, and all sorts of things in between—Alec keeps stumbling over the same few things.

Would Magnus have approved of his decision were he alert enough to hear him make it? If he does have magic, since Asmodeus said there would be no guarantee of that, how many years will it be before he understands it enough to have it under control? Will he be approved, or ridiculed amongst the Downworlders he now has more in common with theoretically than the Shadowhunters he has known all his life? And, more pressingly, Alec thinks as he deflects yet another message from Izzy, how much longer is his family going to put up with his excuses for needing space to get used to this, before they turn up at the apartment uninvited, demanding that he talk?

Alec drops his head to rest on the back of the chair, closing his eyes and feeling the sun warm his face as it streams in through the window. He smiles at the thought of daylight, of walking hand in hand with Magnus to the nearby park, and Magnus staying awake long enough to enjoy a lazy afternoon with him there. He thinks about seeing Magnus try all his favorite things to eat, the stories he'll tell him that will make him laugh, and the smile on his face for everyone and everything he'll see around him after being cooped up inside for so long.

Madzie pops into Alec's thoughts then, an unconscious sigh of relief blasting from his mouth that she is now recovered. It makes Alec wonder if the younger warlocks are all going to recover quicker than the more senior ones. Alec thumbs through his messages to reread one from Catarina that says though she can barely lift her head herself yet, Madzie is running around the apartment playing, conjuring all kinds of junk food now that she's got her appetite back, and constantly trying to make Catarina eat.

That Catarina feels guilty for Madzie falling ill in the first place, Alec knows both he and Magnus will have to placate her for once they are back to normal. Alec thinks there is an extended vacation on the horizon as Catarina tries to make it up to Madzie anyway, no matter what they say.

"Alexander."

Alec jumps from the chair at the sound of Magnus' voice, registering after a couple of seconds that it's the clearest he's heard him speak in days.

"Hey," he says as he crawls on to the bed beside him. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

Magnus takes Alec's hand and presses it against the bed, and Alec watches as he swallows with caution as though expecting his throat to still hurt. When it doesn't, and Magnus clears his throat wide-eyed for apparently being free of his cough, he lifts his head a little, rolling it back and forth before staring at him in surprise.

"I feel _good_."

"Yeah?" Alec says, needing the reassurance, leaning forward and pressing his palm over Magnus' forehead, then sagging in relief when there is no sign of a raised temperature. Even if he has been sure Magnus would be okay, this evidence of his recovery sends fresh elation through Alec, and lets him relax a little more.

"I do. What happened?" Magnus asks, frowning down at himself before looking back up at Alec. "Did I just… get better out of nowhere?"

"Something like that," Alec agrees as he takes Magnus' hand in both his own and squeezes, lifting it to kiss over the back of and willing his tears of relief not to fall.

"And the other warlocks?"

"All getting better too, if they're not better already," Alec assures him, smiling over Magnus' knuckles when he looks up at him again in surprise.

"Belphegor?"

"Is no longer anyone's problem," Alec tells him, trying to ignore the memory of him screaming that he's trying hard to convince himself he can't still hear.

"But—"

"Magnus. What's important, is that it's all over now. That this… that _you_ , are gonna get better. Get strong again. And… everything's gonna be okay now. I promise."

"What aren't you telling me?" Magnus asks him, with urgency in his voice as his eyes flit over Alec's face like he's searching for whatever it is that's different.

Alec doesn't think he has the words yet to tell him, so he shakes his head and squeezes Magnus’ hand. "Later. Let's just… will you eat something for me? Maybe try to drink something? I wanna… I need you to—"

"Alec—"

"You haven't done either for… a little while now," Alec adds, kissing his hand again before he stands, and even then unable to stop touching him, squeezing over Magnus' shin as he talks. "Just something small. And anything you want. Anything you can think of; I'll get you whatever you need."

Perhaps one of the hardest things for Alec over these past few awful months, was watching Magnus lose any interest in himself. Not in makeup, or fixing his hair, though those things had already disappeared from his routine, but in not wanting to eat, or dress, or even move. Alec needs to know Magnus wants something for himself again, even if it is something as simple as a meal.

Magnus looks down at himself again, huffing at the loud growl his stomach answers with. "Well. Apparently, I am hungry, so—"

"But you don't feel hungry?" Alec asks in alarm, once again reaching out to check his temperature.

"No, I do," Magnus says, eyeing him curiously, "I just… I suppose I wasn't aware of it."

"Okay—"

"Although I'm very aware now that I need to use the bathroom," Magnus adds with another glance down at himself, nudging Alec to move so he can get up.

Alec holds out his hands and helps him stand, his heart thudding when Magnus doesn't immediately sway, or drop straight back onto the bed like he has been doing. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine, Alexander," Magnus says, dropping his grip to squeeze his arms and smiling at him. "Just… give me a few minutes. And if you wouldn't mind making tea—"

"Of course," Alec says immediately, though doesn't move until he sees how steadily Magnus is walking by himself.

When Magnus has made it to the bathroom Alec allows himself to sag in relief, then all but skips his way to the kitchen. He puts water on to boil and takes out Magnus' favorite tea set. Alec debates cookies, and crackers, and all the other small snacks they have in the kitchen, setting out several small bowls of things hoping Magnus will have an appetite for at least some of them.

Hands slip around Alec from behind, and he reaches up to cover one as Magnus drops his head against his shoulder blade. Excitement flares through his stomach that he really does have Magnus back, and Alec lets himself relax a little bit more, wondering how long it will be before he isn't bracing for the return of Magnus' sickness again.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me," he hears mumbled into his shoulder.

"Magnus. Of course I would take care of you."

"I mean it," Magnus insists, turning Alec with more strength than he's had in a while to lean him back against the counter. "Thank you."

"I love you," Alec blurts out, because that's the only answer he needs to give him, and that is the only thing that has been getting him through this.

Magnus smiles, cups his neck with that familiar swirl of thumb behind his ear that always leaves Alec feeling grounded, and leans to kiss him. Alec can taste the toothpaste he must have just brushed his teeth with, and feel the scratch of thick stubble against his chin for how long it's been since Magnus last shaved. He wraps his arms around him tightly to pull Magnus even closer, closing his eyes and sagging against Magnus as he kisses him back.

Magnus reaches out to turn the water off, barely breaking their kiss, humming against him in the way he used to do before all of this happened, and Alec hadn't realized how much he'd missed until now, along with everything else he's missed. He chases Magnus’ mouth in the seconds he leans away from him and stumbles closer, feeling he might not be able to get close enough.

"I love you too," Magnus says when he pulls back, splaying his hands on Alec's chest as he continues to lean against him. "I'm so sorry to have caused you all this worry."

"Hey. None of this is your fault," Alec replies, shaking his head adamantly when Magnus opens his mouth to protest. "It isn't. And all that matters now, is that you get better. That you give yourself some time to recover and don't… I don't know. Rush into going back to work, or anything."

Alec has visions of Magnus taking just a few hours for himself, then insisting on visiting every warlock here in New York in their home. He _is_ selfish for Magnus, Alec admits freely to himself as he pulls him closer, and wraps him up in another tight hug.

"Oh," Magnus says with a huff against him as he nudges Alec back so he can grip him around the waist, "I feel as though I have done nothing but try to recover for months."

"Well. Now you really _can_ recover," Alec replies, smiling for the hard kiss Magnus gives him before turning around and trying to take over making their tea. "No."

"I—"

"Sit. Please," Alec insists, "you just woke up. Literally."

"And you must be exhausted from taking care of me," Magnus retorts, looking him up and down as he grabs on to Alec's extended hands.

"Yeah, well. I'm not," Alec replies, wondering how long it will be before Magnus' magic comes back, and if that will coincide with him realizing what's different about him.

He feels so different that Alec thinks it should be obvious to Magnus already. But at the same time, he also feels completely like himself. But he should tell Magnus, Alec knows he should, and tries to argue with himself about all the reasons he has for holding back. None of them are good ones; will Magnus be angry with him for what he's done, for contacting his father, for going through his personal things just to try to find a way to help?

Will Magnus even want him like this, Alec asks himself, trying to keep busy making their tea once he has finally convinced Magnus to sit. Will he feel trapped with him, that he owes something to him for what he's done, when Alec didn't do this for Magnus to owe him anything at all?

Alec tries to tell himself he hasn't been selfish with this decision, that there was no possibility of knowing what he wouldn't personally gain. He didn't know, had no idea that this is the solution Asmodeus would give him. But now that he's here on the other side of it, Alec has to wonder if he _should_ have known. Or if Magnus will view this decision for what it now appears to be—a selfish one.

"You are thinking very hard, Alexander. I can almost feel it from in here."

Alec smiles as Magnus calls out, partly for his words but mostly because he has the strength to raise his voice. He carries the tray loaded up with tea and snacks, sliding it on to the coffee table and sitting by his side.

"It's been hard without you," he says, and before he can even gesture to the tray, Magnus is turning to him, and leaning in to kiss him once again.

"I'm right here now," Magnus says in between kisses, "and have no intention of going anywhere."

"Good."

"I mean it," Magnus says, leaning back to raise his hand and frowning at his palm. "I can feel my magic beginning to awaken, but… I have no idea how long it will be before it returns. But I'm here. And I'm… me. And I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"What's important is that you're better," Alec says, punctuating his words with further kisses. "There's no rush for anything else."

"I'm so sorry to have left you, Alexander," Magnus says softly, one hand pressed against his cheek as he looks at him in remorse.

It hits Alec then, a fresh wave of the despair he's been feeling for the past few months, when he's thought he might lose Magnus. All the sleepless nights, the treatments that did nothing to help, the hallucinations Alec could almost see himself for how vividly Magnus was screaming about them. He _did_ lose Magnus for a while, Alec thinks, and the truth of it thickens his throat for how hard he is now trying to hold back his tears.

"None of this was your fault," Alec whispers, reveling in how alert Magnus looks, and how strong he feels here in his arms.

"Perhaps not. Though I could—"

"Magnus," Alec says, pressing a hard kiss to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut, willing those tears not to fall. "Before you got sick, and even when you were sick, you did everything you could to try to find a way to fix this. You can't… I'm not letting you blame yourself."

"And you single-handedly took care of three incredibly ill warlocks," Magnus points out, still staring at him hard when Alec pulls back, as though he is trying to figure him out. "If you won't take my praise, then you should brace yourself for Catarina's. What you did for her and Madzie, Alexander, I… I can't tell you how much that means to me—and them."

He doesn't need praise, Alec thinks, as he shakes his head in denial, he has Magnus back. And every other warlock is going to be okay. That is all that Alec wants right now. That, and to be alone here with a healthy Magnus.

"Magnus. They're important to me too. You're all… why wouldn't I have taken care of you all?" he asks, squeezing Magnus' sides as he bargains with his voice to stop trembling.

Magnus smiles and shakes his head, dropping his face into Alec's neck and sinking in to another hug.

They have to talk. There are so many things that are different about their lives now that Alec doesn't know how to deal with, or even really how to broach the subject of. But he lets himself indulge in having Magnus safe here in his arms. Listens to his steady breathing that is now free of wheeze and rattle, and smoothes his hands over his fever-free skin. Promising himself he'll find the courage to talk in just a little while.

* * *

They've been curled up around one another on the couch for hours, and Alec can't work out how long it has been since either of them has spoken. Magnus' head rests on his shoulder with his fingers curled around Alec’s waist beneath his shirt, and every few minutes, he lifts his head up, drawing Alec into another kiss.

He could stay like this for hours, Alec thinks, sprawled out on their couch with nothing else to think about. To have Magnus healthy here in his arms and not needing to worry when the next wave of sickness is going to hit is going to be something Alec takes a while to stop fearing.

"You're _thinking_ ," Magnus murmurs into his neck, following it with a kiss that makes Alec shiver and slide his hands wider over his back.

"Possibly."

"Are you going to share?" Magnus asks, lifting his head up again and smiling at him.

Alec doesn't want to say it out loud. He cups the back of Magnus' head and lifts his own to kiss him, sighing as Magnus shifts up the couch a little and braces his hands against either side of his head.

"Please?"

Alec smiles and swallows hard, hands once again back down at Magnus' waist. "It's... it's just going to take a little while to get used to the idea that... to stop being scared that I'm gonna lose you."

Magnus' smile for him is sad, his thumb swirling at Alec's temple as he leans in for a soft kiss Alec thinks is meant to placate him. "I wish I hadn't put you through all of this."

"And I wish you wouldn't blame yourself for something that isn't your fault."

"You're right," Magnus says as he nods, nuzzling against his cheek. "But I promise you. I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, not now."

 _Neither am I_ , Alec wants to say, the words stuck on the end of his tongue. It's been literal hours, he justifies to himself for not talking about this new existence of his, wondering just how long it's going to be before he can't avoid the subject.

"Good," is all he says, backing it up with a smile.

"I feel like myself again," Magnus adds with a quick glance down at himself as he kneels between Alec's legs, grabbing on to his hips. "Though I am still... I suppose it is far too soon to hope that I will be fully recovered."

"But you're not... I mean, you're not feeling sick. Are you?"

"No, Alec. Not sick at all. Though I am still a little tired."

"Is this your way of telling me you wanna go back to bed?" Alec teases, reaching out to sweep his hands up Magnus' thighs.

"It's my way of telling you that I would really, really like to take a shower. That I would like you to join me for."

"So I can keep you up?" Alec laughs, taking Magnus' extended hands to haul himself up.

"That, and the good company," Magnus replies, cupping his face and drawing Alec into another kiss.

"You don't want a bath?"

"No. Not this time. I want to be able to shower. To be able to stand up and do something for myself for more than a few minutes without feeling like I might fall asleep right there."

Alec squeezes Magnus' hips then takes his hands as he kneels off the couch, joining him as he stands. "I'm sorry we're out of your shampoo. I had to buy some... regular stuff."

"Then, that will be my first priority tomorrow."

"You don't need—"

"I _do_ need," Magnus counters, tugging Alec along to the bathroom. "It has been centuries since I used anything else."

"You told me you first brewed it in the 1800s," Alec points out, laughing as Magnus reaches out and pulls his t-shirt off in one tug. "It's not that long, really."

Magnus fixes him with a mock glare before snapping the waistband of Alec's boxers, nodding for him to balance as he yanks them down. He strips himself in seconds before Alec can even reach for him, grabbing Alec's hand and dragging him closer to the shower as he turns on the water, then sticks his hand under the spray, checking the temperature.

"Will you come back to bed with me?" Magnus asks when they step in, immediately sweeping his hands up Alec's chest.

"Of course."

"It will be nice to fall asleep with you," Magnus adds, gesturing for Alec to duck his head before he reaches out for the shampoo.

"I—"

"It will be nice to fall asleep with you willingly, instead of just... falling asleep on you, wherever you are," Magnus amends with a rueful smile.

"Magnus. Honestly? I'd just—hearing you fall asleep and—knowing that you're breathing okay is gonna... that's gonna be enough."

Magnus pauses from eyeing the shampoo bottle suspiciously, reaching up to rinse Alec's hair clean before replying.

"I am sorry I put you through that—"

"It isn't your fault— "

"And yet, I will still feel guilty for some time," Magnus replies, turning when Alec gestures for him to and tipping his head back with a moan as Alec works his fingers through his hair.

Alec kisses the side of his neck, smiling at Magnus' thankful hum. He reaches behind him for their shower gel and begins to soap him up, telling himself his hands are not slipping lower or taking any longer to clean between Magnus' legs than anywhere else.

"I've missed your hands on me," Magnus says with a sigh as he tilts his head back more to lean on Alec's shoulder, and widens his stance.

"I've missed everything about you," Alec replies, trailing kisses up his neck, even when he argues with himself against doing it. Then groans there when Magnus' hands reach back to stroke over his hips and grab his ass, pulling him closer.

"Then, I have a lot of making up to do."

Alec's eyes flutter closed as Magnus wraps his hand around his length and begins to tug, taking it as an invitation to do the same.

"Not about making up—"

"Though for so many of the things I have missed doing to you all these long months, I think perhaps, we still need to wait a few days," Magnus adds, arching back so as Alec begins to thicken, he can press him between his cheeks giving Alec something to rock against.

"We have time," Alec replies, a heated pleasure beginning to pool in his core.

He relishes in having Magnus in his hand, dropping his other lower to cup and knead his balls. Mouths a little harder than intended against his neck when Magnus groans out in encouragement and lathes his tongue over the immediate redness blooming there.

"We do. Though not now," Magnus replies with what Alec thinks is a self-deprecating laugh. He grips Alec's wrist to stop him, then steps out of the shower, gesturing for Alec to turn it off and follow him.

They dry each other in seconds in between frantic kisses and the need to keep touching. And then Magnus is backing Alec into their bedroom until he's bumping against the bed, immediately crawling between Alec's legs the second he's on his back.

"I love you, Alexander," Magnus says as he settles, rolling his hips so they begin to knock and slide together.

"I love you too," Alec replies, sweeping his hands down Magnus' sides before grabbing his ass so he can grind up against him.

It's frantic, interspersed with desperate kisses and blasted out gasps, moving together with enough force to make the bed creak beneath them. Alec keeps glancing down between them to watch them slip together, before dragging Magnus back in for a hard kiss that barely stifles his moan.

Magnus calls out his name on repeat, mouthing it into his shoulder when he isn't groaning it into the air between them. He pauses only to rearrange them, whimpering as Alec slots his fingers between his own giving them something to thrust into. The tighter coil of heat it sends spiraling through Alec's core leaves him choking out a broken gasp, teetering on the edge of coming yet fighting it to wait for Magnus to join him.

Magnus' breath begins to pant out in the shallow blasts Alec recognizes, speeding up as he watches the blissed out look on Magnus’ face. And then Magnus is stilling, groaning as he spills over their knuckles, looking down with a soft sigh as he watches Alec do the same.

Alec knocks Magnus' hand away so he lands on him with an oof, laughing as he tucks his face into his neck and lets out an exhausted groan. Alec wraps his arms around him, not caring about the mess that's drying between them, needing a few minutes to get his breath back and hold Magnus close.

"Perhaps we should have waited for that shower," Magnus mumbles against his throat before lifting his head to look down at Alec with a smile.

"Give me a minute, then I'll get something to clean us up."

"No," Magnus replies with a shake of his head, "I think I have enough energy left for us to rinse off."

Alec leans up for a kiss in no hurry to move anywhere, though goes willingly when Magnus pulls him to his feet. They grimace at the mess they've made between them, stumbling back to the shower where they can't keep their hands off one another.

Magnus takes his time to dry Alec when they've finished, pressing what feels to Alec like grateful kisses for every sweep of the towel. And then he's taking Alec's hand, tugging him back to bed and depositing himself on Alec's chest, mumbling _I love yous_ until he falls asleep.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Yes. No. I'm much better, Luke, thank you. I'm sure in just a few days I will be fully back to myself. Thank you. Yes, I'll tell him. We will see you soon."

"Magnus?" Alec calls out blearily, reaching for him and smiling at the kiss pressed to his forehead.

"Well, hello."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Magnus says, and there is a smile on his face that he presses against Alec's lips as he kisses him, nuzzling against his cheek.

"You called Luke?" Alec asks as he rolls over and wraps Magnus up in his arms, yawning his way into his neck.

"I called The Jade Wolf," Magnus corrects as he begins to play with his hair. "Luke just happened to answer."

"Jade Wolf?"

"I was hungry," Magnus says, and Alec feels him shrugging seconds before he realizes what he's said.

There is a smile waiting for Alec when he looks up, and Magnus nods to confirm what Alec thought he'd heard. "Yeah?"

"Starving," Magnus agrees, stretching for a kiss. "I thought I'd put an order in for us both. I could think of little else than... well, several of their dishes, actually."

"I could eat," Alec admits, sure he must look ridiculous for how hard he's smiling.

Magnus is hungry and craves something specific to eat, and even wants to organize it for himself. It might only be takeout, but to Alec, he might as well have ordered a four-course Michelin-star dinner.

"Their food is delicious, I admit," Magnus teases, cupping his neck as he smiles. "Though I have never seen anyone quite this excited about the thought of Chinese food."

"Magnus," Alec says, shifting up the bed quickly to straddle and sit in his lap, laughing as Magnus wraps his arms around his waist and wriggles against his chest.

"I would suggest that we get dressed so that when our food arrives we don't give anyone any... surprises."

"Maybe."

"And I would also like some of that iced tea you have been plying me with all these long months. I've developed quite the taste for it," Magnus adds, squeezing his sides.

Alec smiles at that, cups his face to kiss him, and can't resist hugging Magnus close again. "So let's do that."

Magnus hums, squeezing his sides to keep Alec in place when he tries to move, angling his chin up to brush their lips together. "They said half an hour. Maybe in a few minutes."

Alec smiles against his lips before nodding, and cups Magnus' face for another kiss.

* * *

"Alexander. Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

Alec blinks himself awake at the sound of Magnus' voice, his heart thudding hard as he pulls himself upright for the paleness of Magnus’ face. "Please tell me you're not sick."

Magnus smiles and leans into the hand pressed against his cheek to check his temperature as he nudges Alec to move over on the bed so he can sit, but his expression is still taut. "No, not sick. Confused. Alarmed, actually. Perhaps even a little terrified."

"What happened?" Alec asks as he reaches for him, unable to stop himself from running his hands over Magnus, checking for signs of injury or illness. "I can't have been asleep that—"

"That I am wide-eyed and wide awake long before you are for once I know is… surprising, given the past few weeks. Months," Magnus amends as he reaches out to cover Alec's hand pressed against his thigh. "You looked so peaceful sleeping, that I couldn't bear to wake you."

"You could have," Alec replies. It's only been a little more than a day since he woke to find Magnus recovering. So his need to keep checking that he is still progressing has Alec grabbing Magnus to pull him closer.

"I thought I would indulge in a little reading until you woke. Perhaps even answer a few messages that I know I need to return," Magnus adds, and Alec catches the difficult way he swallows, panicking already even if he isn't quite awake enough yet to know what for.

"Magnus, you don't need to rush," Alec says, watching Magnus drop his gaze to look at their joined hands.

"I suppose I don't. Though I did feel the need to go into the apothecary. I thought perhaps I should make an inventory of all the things I will need to stock up on after all the ingredients you used for those potions you made. You are a natural," Magnus adds, raising his head to look at him and smiling, though that smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, well. You told me how to make them, and when you didn't, you'd written so many of them down. It was… your instructions were easy to follow."

"Apparently, too easy," Magnus replies, and that terror he's alluded to is evident in his eyes.

"Magnus?"

"Alexander. Did you assume I wouldn't notice that… _pentagram_ burned into the floor of my apothecary? Or the various notes in your handwriting scattered over my desk for what I assume was to guide you through… Alexander," he whispers, teary-eyed, "what have you done? What did you sacrifice for me?"

Alec watches his bottom lip begin to tremble and shakes his head, trying to pull Magnus into his arms. He isn't shifting, stubbornly resisting and staring back at him more frightened than Alec has ever seen him look.

"Nothing I wouldn't do again a hundred times if I had to," Alec says as he cups the back of his neck and stares at Magnus. "Nothing I'm ever gonna regret, that wasn't worth it to make you well again."

He can tell himself again that he's done this for all warlocks, but Asmodeus' taunt about him only wanting to save Magnus is fresh in Alec's thoughts. And there is no lie in his words, he would do this over a hundred times or more if Magnus needed him to. But if Magnus looks so fearful now, Alec can't help but be afraid of what he might be thinking about.

"Tell me he didn't hurt you," Magnus urges, gripping Alec's upper arms fiercely, and holding on to him so tight he can't look away. "Tell me he didn't—"

"No more than… no more than he had to," Alec says after debating his choice of words, and even then thinking that is admitting too much for the ripple of pain it sends over Magnus' face.

Magnus doesn't need to know about the painful restraints on his arrival in Edom, or the agony that raged through him for the extraction and replacement of his Nephilim blood. Alec is sure there are several nightmares in his future that will force him to relive all the worst moments of his time with Asmodeus, and that he'll no doubt wake Magnus in the throes of them all at some point. But right now, all he has to do is make Magnus understand that it was worth it, and hope that this new version of himself is one that Magnus wants.

"Alexander," Magnus says, verging closer to tears, and shaking his head in denial. "What did you give him?"

"The chance to make things better. The chance to heal your sickness—to heal all of you," Alec says, pleading with himself for more rational words to get his point across. "Magnus—"

"Was he cruel to you? Did he _hurt_ you?" Magnus demands, shaking him a little as his tears begin to fall.

Alec can see what he's planning. Can already picture Magnus storming his way to Edom to confront his father for what he's done—exactly as Asmodeus knew he would. It's the last thing he wants, and that Magnus isn't fully yet recovered enough to do so is something Alec is selfishly thankful for, as he tears from Magnus' grip then pulls him tighter into his arms.

"I'm fine, Magnus," he says, trying to soothe him, repeatedly kissing over his shoulder and feeling Magnus shake his head.

"But you're… you're…"

Magnus' words trail away, his hand pressing hard against Alec's chest as though he can feel his new immortality there.

"I'm here," Alec says, not knowing what else to, "and I'm… if you want me, I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

"If I _want_ you?" Magnus repeats in exasperation. "Alexander."

Whatever else he's thinking of saying Magnus cuts himself off from, by grabbing Alec and rolling them until they're laid side by side, pressed together at every possible point. Alec says nothing, just stares back and lets Magnus look him over, then goes when urged on to his back again, only raising his hands to run through Magnus' hair as he kisses over his heart.

"Magnus. There wasn't any other way to do this. There wasn't any other choice. It's not like he gave me any other options."

"But if you would have had a choice about this—"

Magnus pauses to squeeze his hand over Alec's heart and sighs, shaking his head.

"—If you had… if the circumstances were different, and you and I were… if we had discussed this as a possibility without all of… all of this sickness. What would you have wanted then? And please… please be honest with me."

Alec watches Magnus swallowing hard trying to keep his emotions in check, and takes the time to think about what he wants to say. "Magnus, I… we never really talked about it. Not as much as we should have. Not as much as I wanted to."

"The thought of losing you, Alexander, I couldn't… I couldn't bring myself to even say it out loud."

There is pain, and horror in Magnus' expression, as though he is imagining him gone. Alec has faced that same feeling about losing Magnus these past few months, so he gets it, but he has to make him understand.

"But if we had talked about it… if we had… maybe if we'd talked about all of this, I… it's not like I haven't thought about it before. Not like I didn't… that I didn't hope this was an option for me, someday."

"You did?"

"You think I was ever gonna be okay with the idea of leaving you?" Alec asks, trying to get Magnus to echo his smile.

"Alexan—"

"I mean it," Alec insists, leaning in to kiss him. "Maybe I'd have preferred us to go a different way about it. And maybe I'd have… preferred to meet your dad in different circumstances. Or never at all. But we're… we're here now, Magnus. And if I… you're not sick anymore. No warlock is sick. That's all that matters."

"What did he do?" Magnus insists, and Alec thinks about refusing to answer, to wait until Magnus has calmed. "Please tell me."

Alec can't resist the plea, so clears his throat and begins to tell him. Planning on simplifying all that happened in Edom, but the words have other ideas and come tumbling out. He speaks of Asmodeus' taunting, of the way the sky lit up as Asmodeus and Belphegor initially clashed. Of the lightning bolts striking out of nowhere splitting the ground around them, and when Belphegor succumbed, the agonized howl that broke from his mouth.

He talks of the incantations growled from Asmodeus' lips, of the power surging through him that revealed his true face more than once. And of the blood that seemed to be everywhere, both his own, and Belphegor's. The excruciating agony of the spell then performed, and the sickening silence that followed when Belphegor finally grew still.

Alec talks of Asmodeus' instructions for him, the goading manner of his words, and the near-unbearable pain of when he returned him home. He doesn't speak of the flickers of humanity in Asmodeus' eyes, or the brief love he'd shown for Magnus before he could rein it in. Or his joke about expecting an invite to their wedding as soon as it happens. At least, Alec has to hope it was a joke.

"And that's all he took from you? Your blood?" Magnus asks, still gripping him frantically. "Not that blood isn't sacrifice enough. Not that he just took it, he _exchanged_ it—changed you. But—"

"He didn't want anything else from me," Alec says, trying to reassure him as he smiles, "Magnus, he… he didn't ask for anything else."

"Nothing?"

"No."

"He didn't demand any later, further payment? Or speak of—"

"Magnus," Alec says, shaking his head and turning them back on their sides, "no. He didn't ask for anything else. And I guess we'll… we'll have to trust him on that."

"Alec," Magnus says, with a soft blasted sigh of exasperation, once again pulling him closer to squeeze him tight.

"I guess for all his faults, at least you know your dad cares about you," Alec says, trying to make a joke, "even if he could have just… made you better himself instead of… doing this."

Magnus watches Alec gesture at himself, then shakes his head. "He is banished from here, Alexander. The only way for him to help me in person would have been either for me to have gone to Edom, or for the banishment to have been lifted. I am thankful that you didn't find the spell for that," he adds, and Alec opens his mouth to apologize for looking through his personal things, but is cut off with a hard kiss.

"It's okay," Alec whispers when he pulls back, pressing his hand to his cheek. He hadn't even considered the idea of taking Magnus to Edom with him, for knowing he was too weak to move. "It's done now."

"In any case," Magnus says, still holding on to him, "he would have needed your essence for this spell, this… whatever magic he has used to make the warlocks well again. To… I suppose it could be a counterspell against what was done to the word _debere_ —"

"Magnus—"

"But then that wouldn't have needed you to channel his magic. Which I now remember you doing when you returned," Magnus adds, holding out his hand for Alec's and turning it over, swirling his thumb over his palm.

"Magnus—"

"He would have needed something to tether his magic to this world to... help all those affected in it, as well as reverse what this word has done to us all," Magnus continues, and the way he is frowning tells Alec he is going to puzzle over this for days. "I suppose he… he couldn't have given that magic to a Mundane to channel. Or, technically a Shadowhunter."

"Oh," Alec replies, nodding, and thinking perhaps that makes sense. "Well, in that case, that's more than a good enough reason for… you know. Giving up my blood."

"Alexander," Magnus says, giving a nervous swallow, "my father would only have needed a small amount of your blood for that. There was no need for him to… drain every last drop. It's true that he needed you to have demon blood to be able to safely carry his magic here, but… there was no need for him to take _all_ of your blood."

Alec nods, letting that sink in, and shrugs. "So, what did he… I—"

"Did he give you any message for me?" Magnus asks, pulling back a little to study his face. "Anything I… Alexander, please think. Did he say anything at all that made you think that… that there would be anything else he would want from you? From us?"

"He… aside from telling you this was a gift? No," Alec replies, shaking his head.

"A _gift_ ," Magnus says with a sneer in his voice, draping an arm around Alec more protectively and moving closer still, which is virtually impossible, and Alec has to nudge him back discreetly so he has enough room to breathe.

"That's what he said."

"I have been on the receiving end of his _gifts_ before," Magnus spits out looking sickened. "How am I supposed to trust this one any more than any of the others?"

Alec swallows hard, bracing to hear the thing he's been fearing since his return. That this immortality of his doesn't mean Magnus wants him for quite that long. And that though Magnus is grateful that he's done this for him, it doesn't mean he owes Alec an eternity with him. "That's… what he said."

"Believe me," Magnus says, sighing hard as he closes his eyes, "my father, unfortunately knows me far too well."

"Meaning?" Alec asks, bargaining with himself now to be reasonable, to hope that they can continue as they are and not think too far ahead if that isn't what Magnus wants.

"Alexander," Magnus says, speaking his name with so much love, that Alec tears up for it. "That you would take yourself to Edom to ask him for help. That we are together, he… he will know how much you mean to me. How much we mean to each other."

"Then that's… good," Alec says, still not sure what to make of Magnus' tone.

"Oh, it is," Magnus assures him, backing it up with a kiss, and for a second there is a look he gives Alec that is sheer, disbelieving delight. "I couldn't have asked for anything I wanted more than you, forever. I wish I… Alexander, I wish I had told you that before now. I'm sorry that I haven't. It was just... too much to hope for."

Alec smiles at that, allows himself to feel a little relief, and leans in for a kiss. "So… are you saying this gift didn't come without a price?"

"Alexander, you gave a Greater Demon your Nephilim blood. All of it."

"So, he… I owe him something, now?" Alec asks, because it is yet another thought that has been playing on his mind. And he wants to correct Magnus and say the blood was taken, rather than given, but doesn't really think it's a point he needs to make.

"Well, I suppose you technically owe each other," Magnus replies, sighing softly. "He will use your blood to make himself stronger. My father might not appreciate many things in this world, but power he does appreciate. That you have given that to him is… Alexander, he will sustain himself for centuries with your blood."

Alec doesn't know what to make of that, though feels his stomach knot at the thought of all that it could mean. "I—"

"This," Magnus says, rolling back just enough so he can press his hand over his heart, "it _is_ a gift. But it is not just a gift for us. This sickness has come at an optimum time for Asmodeus. He would not be the powerful demon that he is, if he didn't seize opportunities like this when they are presented to him. It is a gift to him as well."

Alec takes that in, knowing there are so many things that are going to take a while to get his head around, and can only nod back for not knowing how to answer.

"You have Belphegor's blood running through your veins," Magnus adds as he squeezes Alec's hip, then raises his hand to trace his fingertips over the veins in his arm.

Alec grimaces but nods. "I do."

"How are you feeling?" Magnus asks, resting a hand on his stomach and staring at him intently, as though he can gauge how Alec really feels just by looking.

"Strange. A little off balance. Scared," Alec adds, thinking now is the time to be honest about it. "I don't know what… I don't know what to expect, or… I keep thinking, what happens if I start… I don't know, Magnus. What if I start taking on characteristics of him?"

Now that he's said it out loud instead of just banishing it to the back of his mind, the possibility hits Alec harder, and he wriggles down the bed until Magnus is holding him in his arms.

"I don't suppose that it works like that. I can't know for sure, of course. But there is so much more of you in here than there is of him. You're still you," Magnus tells Alec as he hugs him. "And whatever… Alexander. I don't know what to expect here. This is the first time I… I don't know what will happen."

"He—he said that I'd be a warlock—immortal. But that there's no guarantee I'll even have any magic, and that even if I do, it'll be… I think he was trying to scare me about having some horrific warlock mark—"

"I have never heard of such a thing," Magnus says with reproach as he kisses the top of his head, "though there may be little I know about warlocks that have been… I suppose, _created_ rather than born, I do know that they tend to lack warlock marks. It is one reason other warlocks can be so… snooty around them."

"Snooty?" Alec asks, smiling for Magnus' choice of words.

"Alexander. Some warlocks are cursed with hideous marks that they have to work hard to keep constantly concealed. A warlock coming along out of nowhere without the need to do the same is… upsetting, for some of them."

"Well. Just add it to the lists of things they're gonna hate about me," Alec replies, already picturing the angry eyes that are going to follow him everywhere from now on.

"Why would they hate you?" Magnus asks, smoothing the frown from Alec's brow with his thumb. "What you did. What you sacrificed here, saved all the warlocks. If anything, they should be grateful—"

"I'm a Shadowhunter, Magnus. Or, I was," Alec amends, convinced he's not going to stop feeling out of his depth about that part of this any time soon. "No matter what happens, I'll always still be different to them."

"All it means is that you are well aware of a side of the Shadow World that most Downworlders only view with mistrust and know little about. If anything, I'm sure they will see you as an asset to them," Magnus replies, and Alec can't tell if he's trying to reassure him or if he really believes that.

"I… don't know what I'm gonna do, Magnus."

Alec closes his eyes, asks himself not to think about this now. His focus should be on Magnus recovering and nothing else; he has plenty of time to adjust to his new way of living. But he needs a moment, presses his face into Magnus' chest and closes his eyes, sighing at the way he squeezes him in a hug.

"You won't be going through this alone. I'm right here," Magnus says, the conviction in his voice telling Alec he is making a promise to him.

It should be him comforting Magnus, Alec thinks, not the other way around. But he holds on to him even tighter before jostling Magnus to move so he can slide back up the bed. And Magnus' smile for him when he reaches his pillow is full of love that has Alec sagging against him, and feeling anchored.

"This is all gonna take a lot of getting used to," he says, slotting a hand beneath Magnus' shirt to splay his fingers across his skin.

"It is. But we will," Magnus replies with conviction in his voice that Alec draws strength from.

Alec takes in the smile on Magnus' face, the general look of health that he has missed seeing so much. Whatever is coming for him he can get through, he thinks, just for knowing Magnus is going to be okay.

"We will," Alec agrees, tucking himself a little closer and leaning in for a kiss before closing his eyes.

"Are you tired still?" Magnus asks, and Alec smiles for the way he strokes a hand up his arm.

"No. But I don't feel like doing anything else for a while. Can we just stay here?"

There are so many things they need to do. So many conversations they need to have. Choices to make, and plans to put in place for this new future unfolding before them. But for all of that, and all the difficulty of these past few months, Alec doesn't want to think of anything else, or be anywhere but right here in Magnus’ arms.

Magnus is smiling when Alec opens his eyes. Kisses then nods against his forehead as he wriggles to get more comfortable. He splays his hand wide on Alec's lower back and tugs him a little closer, ducking for another kiss. "Of course."

* * *


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

"Magnus. This place isn't real."

It can't be, Alec thinks, the view is far too breathtaking to be anything but a painting brought to life. They are on a hike overlooking Maletsunyane Falls, and as Alec listens to the water come crashing down beneath them, he has the idle thought that they should follow it to see where it goes.

"It is beautiful," Magnus agrees as he comes to a stop by Alec's side, uncapping a bottle of water that he passes to Alec before taking a swig.

"Magnus. Everywhere here is incredible." From their lodge in Semonkong, the small town in Lesotho that is their home for the next few days, to every single view they've passed so far since arriving.

Tomorrow they will go for a tour of the Bushman Rock Paintings, and they've talked about pony trekking if the ponies look well-cared for. This might be a deliberately Mundane vacation, with Magnus agreeing to use as little magical as possible so he doesn't stretch himself, but with everything there is here to see and do, neither of them are complaining at all.

"Let's take a picture," Magnus says, turning them to get the best view of the waterfall behind them.

Their guide stops the group for a short break seeing everyone doing the same, and as they sit down and eat the few snacks they've brought with them, Alec looks around them, thinking life doesn't get much better than this.

"Are you doing okay?" Magnus asks with a discreet swirl of his thumb over Alec's palm right in the center.

His magic is beginning to flare up in fits and starts, sometimes so quick to fire up from his hand that it startles him. Alec had hoped that he'd feel more in control of it than he does, but in the four months that have passed since he returned from Edom, its erratic appearance has meant anything but.

"I'm great," Alec says as he squeezes Magnus' thigh where he's sat cross-legged, and leans in for a kiss. "And you?"

Magnus' magic has been slow to return, taking several long weeks that infuriated him for how delayed it was in comparison to other warlocks. Alec kept teasing him that it must be his age. But it's back now, and just as prominent as before. And sometimes when Alec watches him training with it on the balcony, he feels out of his depth, thinking he will never be as graceful with magic as Magnus is.

"I am also great," Magnus says with a wink, his hand cupping Alec's neck before he can pull too far back.

"Can we try that restaurant tonight?" Alec asks, taking his hand. "I heard the waiter this morning talking about the fresh fish. It sounded delicious, whatever they were making."

"Of course. And we must make time to visit that brewery where they source from, so we can take some of that pale beer we had last night home with us."

"It's really good beer," Alec agrees, "maybe it was that place we passed yesterday on the tour in town?"

"Perhaps," Magnus says, smiling as Alec pulls him to his feet when the guide announces for them to continue their walk.

Alec squeezes Magnus around the waist, tugging him into his side, before pulling back to take his hand, and pointing out a path for them to take. This is the first real break they've taken since before the warlock sickness, not straying further than a couple of weekends away just outside of New York before now.

It's more than overdue. Magnus was going stir crazy for just how long he was forced to spend inside, and in the lead up to this vacation, they have both been working hard to establish a new normal in their lives. Alec has no idea what his normal is going to look like yet, despite that work, but he's tired of thinking about it, really, and right now doesn't want to try.

The Clave has been predictably difficult since the warlock sickness. First trying to use it as a means to control warlocks under the guise of their protection, and then putting nothing but obstacles up when they realized it wouldn't work.

And as for Alec, the now former Head of the New York Institute and new Special Downworld Envoy to the Clave, he doesn't know where he stands. He's quite used to the looks he gets in Idris for both his family name and his relationship with Magnus, but now they’re so much worse because he doesn't belong there at all. Unless it suits people, of course.

"We are on vacation," Magnus says with a squeeze of his hand and a nudge against his arm, telling Alec he knows what he's thinking without even asking. "And we will deal with everything else when we return."

"Yeah, we will," Alec agrees, unslotting their fingers to throw his arm around Magnus' shoulder, and holding on to him as they walk.

Alec knows exactly two things about his future so far. One, that Magnus will be in it, and two, he's going to marry Magnus one day. They've spoken about it, decided that since they have such a long life ahead of them together now, that there is no need to rush a single thing between them.

Alec suspects Magnus already has ideas for their wedding after catching him leafing through an issue of The Knot, but has tactfully not said anything, knowing Magnus will want it to be a surprise. But he's seen his eyes lingering on bakery cake displays, and just last week he saw Magnus coming out of a jewelers with a triumphant smile on his face when they met for lunch.

Perhaps not too far in the future, then, Alec thinks to himself, wondering if Magnus has already chosen their rings.

"Do you want to go back to Cape Town? Or Johannesburg since we are here?" Magnus asks as they pull apart to make their way over a steep drop in their path. "Or should we only see places we haven't been to together for now? We could go to Morocco, then head up into Europe. And then—"

"Magnus. We just arrived—"

"And this is our first vacation in months," Magnus says, excitement lighting up his eyes. "We can go to Honduras, and Madagascar, and Dublin in the space of a week if we want to."

"And we just got _here_ ," Alec says, smiling in tease. "What happened to living in the moment, huh?"

Magnus opens his mouth to speak and instead just smiles ruefully, tugging on his hand and drawing him in for a quick kiss.

"Alexander. Can I help it if I want to do everything with you? See, and share everything in this world with you?"

Magnus has spoken to him so many times in the past few months about how he used to fear having to live without him. That he'd always avoided the conversation, because it hurt too much to think about him being gone. And, in what was a surprise to Alec, that in all his long life and for all the people he's loved, there has been no one who has ever wanted to stay with him like Alec.

Alec wonders how conversations about their future might have ended up turning out if this sickness hadn't happened. If the options for making him immortal would have come up.

But it isn't anything either of them have to worry about any longer. There is no _end_ for them to worry about now. And even with whatever life chooses to throw at them, or what troubles they manage to get themselves into, Alec feels like he might be able to take on anything so long as he has Magnus. So much is uncertain, but how he feels about Magnus isn't.

"We'll do everything, Magnus," Alec whispers, drawing him to the side of the path and kissing him again, excited for whatever comes next for them both. "We will."


End file.
